#he's so consistent in his worry for her safety I FEEL SICK

[mushroomwriter]

THE UNTAMED episode 09

[adventuringblind]

Drive with you Forever

Chapter Nine: Find me at your doorstep

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader

Chapter summary: summer break is interrupted, Guenther is exasperated, Seb is a father to four kids who can't communicate, and the reader reveals an interesting piece of information

Warnings: kidnapping, medical abuse, physical abuse, drugging, lack of communication, throwing up, sickness, blood, mild gore, Jos Verstappen and his great parenting skills, mentions of SH

Notes: Listen, Y'all, this is probably one of my favorites so far. It's definitely not as comical as others, but it's dramatic and has some action.

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Masterlist

She probably shouldn't have been alone. She got comfortable in the safety of their apartment. Her newfound willingness to not let her father get to her.

She shouldn't have left that day as she walked down the streets of Monaco. Pascale had invited her over for lunch, and although she could have driven, she wanted the fresh air.

It was stupid to leave the house, she thinks, as her body refuses to work. Her useless visions apparently don't show what happens to her directly, just what happens around her.

Now she's in a strangers car, her phone broken, and the energy that had doubled since her dad stuck her with the needle not working.

Her healing had gotten better, and she'd discovered how to make new things out of old things. Her visions are clearer and more consistent, and the telekinetic abilities made her feel more like a Jedi from Star Wars every day.

Again, it's all useless now.

~

"Has anyone heard from y/n?" Shouts Charles from the living room where he had been lazily lounging on the couch.

"No. Why?" Max pops his head out of the kitchen. It's grown on Charles to see the Dutch being domestic. He's protective of his kitchen and Charles being the number one threat is not allowed anywhere near it when he's cooking.

"She was supposed to be at my mom's house by now, and apparently, she's not there."

"She did walk there, so maybe she just took the scenic route?"

"But an hour late feels like a lot for that." The anxiety in Charles’ voice is evident.

"Let's not worry about it for now. She knows how to take care of herself."

~

Nobody had heard from her that night. Or the next morning.

The boys couldn't sleep. On the phone with anyone who might know where she is.

Nothing. It's like she disappeared off the planet.

"Do you think it's her dad?" Pipes Lando. The Brit had been pacing a hole in the floor, and both Charles and Max had made him slow down to breathe properly multiple times.

None of them wanted to consider the possibility, but it could be a likely option.

"god I hope not."

~

Her room hadn't changed. The small window is still letting in a cold draft at night. The only thing telling her how long she'd been here.

Five days. Five horribly long days.

The ties around her wrists ached. Her body hurt from being repeatedly drugged and tossed around like a sack of potatoes.

There were more people here now. More then she remembers there ever being at least. She knew there were people, men, who would come in and out but she was never allowed to speak with them.

For what it’s worth, whatever they were doing to her was making her stronger. She’d been able to transfer the wounds from one person onto herself. It’s keeping her captor at ease for now but she knows he wants more.

It’s not ideal and it’s painful. It’s like she can’t get past a mental block that will allow to simply heal. She can feel it somewhere deep within. She knows she can.

Bringing someone back from the dead however, that’s not healing.

Maybe if she’s able to bring back the corpse of her mother, they’ll trade places. Her soul finally giving into the peace of permanent unconsciousness. At least then her boys wouldn’t have to worry. They could move on without her. Find solace in each other.

Maybe, she thinks.

~

Sebastian is going to lose his mind. His daughter is missing and it feels like the only thing the journalists are writing about is how she probably ran off to be a slut for a different group of guys. He was going to have the heads of whoever wrote that if he ever sees them.

The boys had been staying in Germany with him. It hadn’t taken long for the authorities to determine she’s not in Monaco. They’d come here in hopes of reevaluating. Though they were at each others throats when they got here.

Seb had practically forced them to sit down and communicate. They started working together after that.

Hanna had been forcing them to eat proper meals. Seb made sure at least one of them slept at a time. Lando had recovered from four separate panic attacks over two days. Max is trying to look strong but his puffy red eyes give him away. Then there’s Charles; the monegasque had been blaming himself for not walking with her when he could’ve.

Seb had a feeling they were going to find her. She’s a fighter. The when part is much harder to figure out.

And for all their sakes, he hopes it’s soon.

~

Two weeks.

Two weeks of this nonsense.

She wonders if everyone is racing again. Or at lease getting ready too. This was not how she intended on spending her break.

She was getting closer to giving her father what he wanted. She was pulling herself to the edge of no return every time she worked in that rotting corpse of her mother.

Tonight, though, may be her only chance at escape.

They’d forgotten to drug her before leaving her in her room. The alcohol in their systems already taking effect.

She’d been able to slide off her restraints with ease. Her abilities strength coming in handy at the current moment.

Now she quietly is pulling out her window frame. It have never been sealed but she can’t help but feel satisfied when the screen pops out with a satisfying click.

She could care less how far the drop is. She’s two stories up with grass beneath her. She push herself out the window, her body facing the wall and hand gripping the ledge.

She swings herself outward and hits the ground with a soft thud.

Then she runs.

~

She had a destination in mind. Someone at the gas station she stopped at was nice enough to let her use their gps to see how far away she was under the guise of hers being stolen. Technically, she didn’t lie.

The walk to the Haas headquarters was six hours. But she didn’t stop until she got there.

Now she can’t help but lean herself against the front door, hoping someone notices her.

~

Guenther whistles a tune to himself as he arrives at work for the day. The sun is out and the birds are chirping. The definition of a great morning to him.

The familiar female figure slumped on the ground in front of the front door completely changes his tune. He quick to get her inside and find some fresh Haas shirts lying around for her to change into.

Once she’s awake and refreshed he sits her down in his office.

“Are you going to tell me why you spent the night outside the front door?” He sounds like a stern parent. She curls into herself. It’s reminiscent of how she was when he first got her when she was fifteen. Scared, shaking, and so quiet.

He’d known she went missing a little over two weeks ago. It was the reason the summer break had been extended. The FIA had been trying to get more security measures set in place.

“I need to call Seb, please.”

~

The boys were there the next day.

Guenther had taken her to his house despite her adamant refusal. The girl had been to tired to fight and eventually gave in.

It’s not long before she padding softly down to the dining room, halting in her tracks when she sees everyone. She doesn’t say anything. She can’t say anything. The boys don’t either. They don’t know how to approach her.

He led the four males inside and sat them down at his dining room table. “She’s sleeping right now.” Questions come flying at him from the three younger men. Seb shoots them all a look that says shut up and let him explain. “I’ll warn you that she’s a bit of a mess. Her father did a number this time around.”

after an hour of sitting, the anxious boys see the female peek her head around he corner. none of them know what to do. They don’t want to scare her away after what she’s been through.

Seb goes to her first. He approaches her slowly taking her in his arms. Then everything in her snaps. It’s just like when she had night terrors and was finally able to wake up from it. This time however, it had been real.

~

She spends the night in bed with Max. The house they're staying in lacks a bed big enough for all of them.

They had played a game of rock paper scissors, which Max won. He claimed his spot next to her with his signature winning grin.

Charles and Lando decided not to take a different bedroom and are curled up at the floor at the foot of the bed instead. Their soft snores confirm that they are, in fact, asleep.

Max holds her close. Every second with her precious. She'd been crying since they arrived. No matter what they did, she seemed to have a never ending supply of tears.

He'd been the first to assess the damage done to her body.

Diagnosis: terrible. He had half a mind to get Guenther to show him where the hell her father is staying so he can personally drag him to hell.

The cuts and incisions along her torso and chest are still red and puffy. The bruises that littered her skin are awful shades of blue, black, and yellow. Her eyes are dull with dark circles beneath. Her body seemed just as fragile as the day he first met her.

He felt himself slipping back into memories from years ago. Gentle touches so he didn't scare her, slow movements because she flinched away from anyone who moved fast.

Quiet until someone tried to say something mean to him or Seb.

Now she lays on his chest. Tears still fall onto his lightly colored t-shirt. And he finds himself wishing he'd have found her years before he met her, if only to tell her he'll be there for her. No matter what anyone says, he'll always find her.

~

Seb watches carefully as she picks at her piece of toast. According to Guenther, she hadn't been able to keep much down since he found her.

She protested eating anything, but Seb is a good negotiator. He promised that when she could keep food down that they would go home to Germany. Not back to Monaco yet because people are aching to get pictures of her.

"At this rate, I'll be old and wrinkly by the time you finish."

She shoots him scowl. "Aren't you retiring? Dosen't that mean you're already old?"

"Old is a state of mind."

She takes another bite. The taste could be that of a brick, but she's so hungry it would still taste delicious.

"I can't stop thinking about the car that got me."

"What do you mean?" Seb asks gently. She hadn't talked much about the whole ordeal yet. Little bits of information here and there but nothing to help him get a picture of what went on.

"The man driving the car. I knew him."

"But he wasn't your father? Or the man at your door?"

"No, he was older than my father and larger than the man at the door." She rubs her tembles in a struggle to remember.

"No need to think about it now. They're not going to get you again. Mostly because I think your boys might start a war if they do."

Their soft conversation is interrupted by Max speaking to his phone in angry Dutch. A clear sign of Jos being on the other end.

"je doet raar." (You're being ridiculous)

Her head perks up at the phrase. A familiar one Max uses with Charles when he is oblivious.

Max hangs of the phone in a huff amd site down with them at the table.

"Can you say that again?" She looks at Max. Her request odd to him, but he obliges. "je doet raar."

"He was on the phone speaking Dutch. He used that phrase." Her head gets a shooting pain, and lights dance through her eyes as she finds herself receiving the car ride.

This time watching scenes unfold in that past. This is new. Both with her and in the context of the situation.

She's in the passenger seat, and next to her is none other than Jos Verstappen.

~

Charles has never seen Max so angry. Which is saying something because Max is angry a lot.

The scene him and Lando walked into had been nothing short of catastrophic.

A female body tucked into Seb on the couch, the German attempting to get the attention of a specific Dutch. Max obviously is not listening and is letting the most foul things he's even heard him say about his father ring through all their ears.

It's interesting in a sense. The other three had never hesitated to show their distaste towards Jos, and Seb had managed to call him a poor excuse of a father to his face on more than one occasion.

There had been a time that Max had a tire malfunction and ended his race in the wall. Jos had gotten more aggressive then any of them would have liked and he is very lucky that nobody aside from Seb had been around to see it.

Seb has a sway with words. He knows how to make them stick. So when he saw Jos' hand land on Max's cheek, he didn't hesitate to step in.

The German gently tucked Max out of the way and faced the older Dutch with fire in his eyes.

"Didn't know a tire failure was deserving of a slap."

"This is between me and my son."

"As far as I'm aware, he's dating my daughter, which makes him mine also. Touch him again, and I'll take legal action."

It was one of the only times Seb had to hold Max comfortingly in his chest. Reassuring the boy that he did not deserve any of that even as Max explained why he did.

Lando is the fastest to act. His arms encircled around Max's body. He can visibly see him relax into the Brits hold.

"Jos was the one who took me originally." The female explains. Her knees tucked up to her chest, and her head rests on sebs shoulder. Charles makes note of how she looks more exhausted now the the last time he saw her.

The words didn't register with him. Not entirely anyway. It didn't make sense. How is it even possible that Jos is in kahoots with the devil?

It would seem they are both devils that somehow raised angels. Charles will only thank them for that, and only after he's killed them.

It's terrible really, the way they look at him. She is teary eyed and apologizing while Max looks clueless. And for the first time since Charles started dating him, Max is pleading with his eyes for help. The Dutch is clueless on where to go from here.

"Knowing that, Max, if you want to leave your dad out of this, we can." Mentions Seb. He knows that the way Jos brought up Max left him confused. His dad praised him and rewarded him one second, then hit him the next. It made thinking fuzzy for him, and since his father was never all bad, he told everyone that it was a good thing. He was attached to him regardless of the circumstances.

This was different.

"If he's going to kidnap my lovers, then he needs to be put away."

"That makes this easier. Know that my home is your home as it always has been, in case things get ugly."

Max nods his head at the German. Really, Seb had been his father figure since he was seventeen. Jos didn't have much say in his life anymore

~

After a third attempt at eating toast, she was finally able to keep it down. It was forced, and she had gagged multiple times, but it was still in her stomach after an hour.

They left soon after that, thanking Guenther profusely for , once again, rescuing her at her worst.

The perks of dating a world champion is that he now owns a private jet. They got home sooner than she expected because of it.

Hanna greeted them at the door and gently latched herself to her daughter. The relief coming in the for of salty tears.

She likes being at home in Germany. Seb had made sure to keep her old room clean. He even got a bigger bed once he heard Lando joined them.

The room feels comfortable and familiar. She's even able to fall asleep when she sits on top of the soft covers.

That is how the boys found her. Snoring softly, draped over the bed with her shoes still on. They carefully slip her shoes of and reposition her where she'll be more comfortable.

Then, they leave the room and shut the door behind them. Their conversation nothing but whisper right outside the door.

"Will she be able to drive next week?"

"I hope so. Maybe Charles will have a chance if she can't, though." The Dutch snickers. Charles hits his shoulder playfully. "I'm not sure how to move forward now. It seems like anything we do only prolongs the inevitable."

"We take it on day at a time then."

~

She managed to get herself to the race track. Driving may not be an option yet, but at least she was there. Christian wasn't going to let her drive until he got her physical report back.

Really it was Max telling him the truth about how she still can't keep down a full meal and is now dropping weight because of it.

She did eat some crackers and was fine. She's proud of herself for that one.

Despite Sergio driving the second redbull, she was happy to be back. The paddock felt similar to home in some ways.

The only new thing is that she's never alone. When free practice 1 comes around, Max dutifully places her on the pitwall next to Christian. She dosen't move until somone comes to get Her.

She feels mildly like a nuisance to them since they have to pay extra attention to her now.

She's stays in their hotel room the rest of the weekend until right before the race. Everyone in the garage is shocked to see her walk in alone.

All her boys end up on the podium, and it's the first time she's celebrated since she came back.

~

Three quarters through the season, and she's still not driving. Still training in more ways than one, but not driving.

She doesn't feel like she can. Her body is still physically decimated. She's able to keep down more then just toast now, but that's on a good day.

Her powers are at the strongest they've ever been. She's managed to learn more about self-defense in case someone tries to nab her again. But with that comes sticky note threats in Jos Verstappens' handwriting.

It's starting to look desperate.

Despite the state of her uncooperative body, she still went to every race. Attempting to be as supportive as possible from the sidelines.

It didn't feel as painful as when she felt as though she lost her spot the first time. This time, she still had purpose. She is doing her best to learn how to keep her family safe. That's all she could ask of herself.

All of them were glad she wasn't pushing to get back in the car. They all know about her aptitude for pain. Christian is amazed by how she's coping and fully supports her decision. Seb seems to be cheering her on in the pits even though he's the one driving.

She doesn't even bat an eye when Jos makes a vaugly threatening statement towards her. Because if she wanted, she'd have his head through the wall in a second.

She doesn’t let herself get comfortable this time. The nagging feeling that something worse is coming a constant in the back of her mind.

~

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@chanshintien

[cinderella-ish]

Kyo, Momiji, and the beach trip that changed everything (part 4 of 5)

So, the beach arc is one of the best parts of the beautiful story that is Fruits Basket. Functionally, it's the midpoint, occurring from chapters 54-65 (out of 136) of the manga, and episodes 31-35 (out of 63) of the anime.

What is the midpoint in story structure? From author K.M. Weiland's site Helping Writers Become Authors:

As the centerpiece of the story, the Midpoint in many ways encapsulates the entire point of the story. Plot, character arc, and theme all coincide here (more obviously even than usual) to provide the protagonist with at least the opportunity to see the world in a different and potentially more functional way than previously. Depending on what the character realizes and accepts at the Midpoint, he should be able to use this new knowledge to move onward more effectively toward the plot goal.

In the article I linked above, Weiland talks about the two halves of the story's midpoint: first is the plot revelation, where something key about the external plot is revealed to the protagonist; and second is the moment of truth, where the protagonist uses that new information to change their perspective on the story.

For Tohru, the main protagonist, the plot revelation is when Akito reveals that the cursed Sohmas will all return to her and Kyo will be confined after graduation. The moment of truth is when she decides she wants to break the curse.

For Yuki, second protagonist, the plot revelation is that Tohru was the little girl he saved all those years ago, and the moment of truth is that it's time for him to "open the lid" and accept his feelings for what they are.

Even Hiro experiences his own midpoint shift. His plot revelation is that Tohru, like him, has her own feelings hidden deep in her heart, and that she covers up her pain with a smile. His moment of truth is that he wants to stop taking out his frustration on Tohru.

So, let's look at the beach arc as it pertains to Momiji and Kyo and their character arcs.

First, we have this cute little moment where Momiji comes to let Kyo know about the trip.

Momiji: Kyo! Hey, Kyo. You sick? Kyo: I'm tired. I don't have the energy to talk to you. Get out. Momiji: Got it. *inhales* We're going to the vacation house tomorrow, so get packed! Kyo: (angrily) You don't get it! (calmly) Wait, tomorrow? To the vacation house? Momiji: Yep! Kyo: Don't 'Yep' me! Momiji: Wah! Kyo hit me! But you'll come, right? You won't say no, right? Right? Kyo: Stop bugging me. Momiji: Tohru will be sad if you don't come. We'll play together! We'll swim together! Kyo: I said to stop bugging me! I never said I wouldn't go. Sheesh. I'm so tired. Momiji: You've gotten nicer. Kyo: Huh? Momiji: Nothing! Oh yeah, I'm gonna catch stag beetles! And Hercules beetles! Kyo: You're being serious?

I love that Momiji is consistently the one to invite Kyo to do things. While Yuki is helping Tohru finish her homework, Momiji tells Kyo about the trip in the most obnoxious way possible. Kyo gets annoyed, naturally, and gives Momiji a bonk on the head. Momiji pretends to cry (as usual), but then asks Kyo if he'll come.

Momiji seems genuinely worried that Kyo won't come, and goes right for Kyo's weak spot to manipulate him, saying, "Tohru will be sad if you don't come."

I also love the soft look on Momiji's face when he says to Kyo, "You've gotten nicer." Cuuuuuute.

After they arrive, there are a few cute moments in the first day or so at the beach. When Momiji points out Tohru's swimming and Kyo goes to rescue her (because he knows she's holding her breath), he asks Momiji to teach her how to breathe while swimming. Here, Kyo demonstrates a great deal of trust in Momiji. Tohru's safety is the most important thing to him, and he's trusting Momiji to look out for her safety, too.

I also love Momiji's comment when Yuki baits Kyo into staying in the water to race. "They should just swim like normal people. How childish." Yeah, okay Momiji.

Later (and this may be a change for the anime, as I couldn't find it in the manga), when they're all looking at the beetles, Momiji says Kyo is the person who taught him the sugar water trick.

But soon, Akito arrives, and everything changes.

This is a great scene for understanding how Akito operates as an abuser, but to keep the focus on Kyo, it's when Akito brings up Tohru that Kyo's entire demeanor changes. He'd been crying, begging Akito to stop, at his lowest point both literally and figuratively, when Akito shifts the conversation from Kyo's mother (and, in his mind, Kyoko) to Tohru, and her reaction to his True Form.

He immediately shifts from self-pity to fear and then anger, yelling back at Akito, defending Tohru from Akito's accusations, even when Akito is yelling at him to shut up. Suddenly, he falls quiet, and we hear his internal monologue:

She knew that if she let go of my hand, I would never return. That I might never return to anybody. She didn't take up all my pain. She didn't fill in all the brokenness. But those... those weren't important. The most important thing was that she stayed with me. Finding joy in the smallest things, being happy and smiling so cheerfully... Why? She should think of herself more. Why? Doesn't she think she's getting the short end of the stick? She thinks that she's stupid, or that there's nothing good about her.

And then we see Momiji and hear his voice.

It's a waste of time to think about loss or life getting harder. The traveler never thought about that stuff. Even if other people think that makes her an idiot, I just don't. That's all. Yuki, Kyo, What about you? What do you think when you close your eyes?

We then see Kyo with his hands over his eyes, interspersed with images of Tohru and the sound of her saying his name, as he lowers his hands and looks directly at the camera, articulating exactly how he feels about Tohru.

I love you. I love you so much. Just as you are.

It's a great callback to The Foolish Traveler, and the way Momiji closed his eyes when he was reflecting on how he interpreted the story, opening them when he realized he saw it differently than his classmates.

The sequence where Kyo finally realizes his feelings for Tohru is beautiful, possibly one of the best-done sequences in the anime. It's painful and moving and both Yuma Uchida and Jerry Jewell deliver gorgeous performances as Kyo. This is Kyo's plot revelation.

But most importantly (for the purposes of this series of posts, at least), it's Momiji whose voice Kyo hears at this crucial moment. It's Momiji whose words lead Kyo to realize he's in love with Tohru.

There's a lot that happens between Kyo's revelation that he loves Tohru and when he finds her on the beach that evening, but it's less important to the relationship between Kyo and Momiji, so I won't include it in this post.

What is important, though, is Kyo's moment of truth. The thing he decides is to spend as much time with Tohru as possible while he's still free.

I love you. I don't want to take anything else from you. I don't want to trample you ever again. At some point, I hoped we could always be together somewhere far off, but I won't hope that anymore. I won't hope that I could make you my own anymore. I won't hope that, so please, at least... at least be by my side for the time I have left. I want to be with you. Until we're separated far apart.. until the last moment.

I wonder who put that idea in his head?

In the next episode, we get this conversation between Kyo and Momiji.

Momiji: Kyo, Akito didn't call you in tomorrow, right? Kyo: Nope. Momiji: Really? If I thought, 'Good for you,' would you get mad? Kyo: I wondered why you all abandoned Tohru as you were told like good little kids. But I see. If you prioritized Tohru over Akito, Akito would get mad, huh? That would just make Tohru look bad. You guys, including Yuki, were protecting Tohru from Akito, huh? Momiji: You make it sound like we were doing such a good thing. But that's not it. We've- I've been doing it all wrong. I'm selfish for wanting to make memories with Tohru, despite everything. I'm selfish for loving Tohru so much. Kyo: I'm selfish, too. Momiji: Hmm? Kyo: Never mind. Anyway, weren't you going on about watching something on TV earlier? Tohru: Momiji-kun! Kyo-kun! Momiji: I was so scared! Kyo was trying to mug me! Tohru: What? Kyo: Seriously, you think I'm some delinquent?!

They both display a vulnerability and honesty here that they've really only shown before to Tohru. Kyo's reflecting on his anger at Yuki, and Momiji's being much more straightforward than he usually is, stating his realizations as they're coming to him, rather than using them to manipulate. I also love the detail of Momiji correcting from "We've" to "I've." It really shows the change in his maturity that occurred during this arc.

I see this as Momiji's plot revelation, that fun isn't the most important thing when you love someone.

This is also the first time Kyo verbalizes his feelings for Tohru out loud, if obliquely. When he smiles to himself and says, "I'm selfish, too," he's referencing what Momiji just said, that he's selfish for loving Tohru so much. It's notable that the first time he does this is in front of Momiji, even if he doesn't repeat it when it's clear Momiji didn't hear what he said.

I think, from this point on, Momiji and Kyo are trusted confidants for each other. This will come up more in part 5, but I really just love the way their relationship matures here.

And then, Akito returns.

This is one of the most harrowing sequences in the anime. We know Akito's already in a bad mood, we know she blames Tohru for taking away her Zodiac, and we've seen exactly how she abuses those she serves as god.

Momiji: Akito. What are you doing here so late? Akito: I came to see Honda Tohru-san. I have to return home suddenly, you see. But I haven't seen Honda Tohru-san yet. Momiji: Right now? But Tohru's most likely sleeping. Akito: Wake her. Momiji: No. Akito, you're mad right now, right? You'll take out your anger on her, huh? Akito, what's wrong? Why are you so mad? Did something happen? Akito: Something happen? What? Why do you need to know? You want to get to know me? To understand me? Why? [Akito punches Momiji] Akito: You make me sick! Understand? Understand me? You just want to belittle me! You just want to define me by your twisted logic, to paint me as a villain! Tohru: Stop, please! Momiji: T- Tohru: Sto- stop, please! Akito: Stop? You're giving me an order. Terrible. Terrible. You're not a very nice person. Momiji: Akito! Akito: But Tohru. Honda Tohru, I was kind enough to come see you. I don't care how disrespectful you are to me. There's... there's something I came to tell you. Don't be so full of it, scum. You might think you saved Yuki and Kyo. Better take that arrogance down a notch right now. Let me tell you something. I'll tell you. Kyo, you see, after high school, will be confined. Just like the previous cat, confined for life.

It's here that we see Momiji is no longer there. In the manga, we see Momiji run away. Akito and Tohru's conflict continues, but I want to focus on Momiji's actions here.

When he understands the situation, he starts gently, reasoning that Tohru is probably sleeping. When that doesn't work, he moves to defy his god in order to protect her.

When Tohru shows up and puts herself between Momiji and Akito, Momiji is clearly upset. He'd only wanted to keep her from getting hurt, and now she's trying to protect him. He feels like he's failed, but the danger is still happening. When Akito takes Tohru by the head and starts telling her about Kyo's impending confinement, he runs for help.

Momiji likely blames himself for Tohru getting hurt. It was his idea to go to the beach house, and he angered Akito before Tohru arrived. His moment of truth is that he needs to focus on protecting Tohru and consider her safety in the future.

I wonder where he got that idea.

It's worth noting that this scene happens the same night as his hallway conversation with Kyo. While Kyo was beginning to understand that fighting isn't the only way to protect someone, and that sometimes you need to keep your head down and play the role in which you've been cast in order to protect someone, Momiji was learning the opposite lesson, that sometimes, you need to acknowledge the hard truths about a situation, that fun and pleasure don't erase pain, and that some things are worth fighting for.

Akito and Tohru's conflict ends when Kureno arrives and takes Akito back to the estate. Next, Shigure and Hatori arrive, and when Tohru asks why they're there, Shigure reveals where Momiji ran off to.

Shigure: Momicchi ran to me in terror. I didn't know what was wrong. Tohru: Is Momiji-kun hurt!? Where's Momiji-kun!? Hatori: Don't worry. He's right there. Tohru: Momiji-kun! Momiji-kun, are you all right?

Momiji tries to smile, but he can't, and he breaks down instead.

We've seen Momiji fake cry dozens of times before now. We've seen real tears from him only twice: once when he told Tohru about his mother (and even then, it was only after he transformed that he let himself cry), and once on Kisa's behalf, when he was telling the others about her bullying, and that he imagined how he'd feel if people laughed every time he spoke.

But this is the first time we've seen him break down.

Again, Momiji is blaming himself for what happened. He sees the mark on Tohru's face, and he knows she got hurt even worse after he left. He's upset that she ended up protecting him instead. He believes he's failed in every way. It's a feeling Kyo's incredibly familiar with.

But even though Momiji thinks he's responsible for Tohru getting hurt, everyone acknowledges he did something very difficult and brave.

Shigure: Well, Momicchi really hung in there. Compared to him, look at the other young folk. Hatori: Compared to him, look at us... right?

It's then revealed that Yuki, Kyo, and Haru were watching from just inside, and Haru was physically holding Kyo back from intervening.

Haru: See, Akito left. I told you Momiji would get the older ones. Kyo: I'm so pathetic I could puke.

Kyo is ashamed that he didn't act, even though he knows it wouldn't have helped, and might have gotten Tohru hurt worse.

Momiji and Kyo both feel responsible, but by thinking themselves responsible, they belie the fact that they don't hold the other person responsible. Kyo sees that Momiji actually did something, that he stood up to Akito, while he stood back and let Tohru get hurt. Momiji isn't upset that no one else stood up to Akito beside him. He's not even sure that was the right thing to have done.

But they're both wrong, of course. The only person who's actually responsible for Tohru getting hurt is Akito.

Thankfully, the arc ends with a nice moment of everyone enjoying fireworks together. They've all changed, but some things will always be the same.

Momiji: Let's do some sparklers together! Tohru: Okay! Momiji: Kyo! Come do them with us, Kyo! Kyo: So annoying. Just do them without me!

Yuki then baits Kyo into joining them, and the four sit together and do fireworks.

Even after everything that's happened, Momiji's still the one who invites Kyo to join in the fun.

Momiji and Kyo: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

[classicalthickness]

I had a long distance lover.

I was in my 20s.

We met randomly on Tumblr.

We did this thing where you would exchange numbers with a stranger and not reveal who you are until after a week of talking.

Strangely enough I think our lonely, young, thirsty hearts fell in love before the reveal.

We would then spend the next few years talking obsessively. We would eat dinner together, order movies and watch them together. Sleep together. Have nasty phone sex together. He was the first consistent safe thing I ever had in my whole life.

I would have to admit besides his love and kind soul the distance is what made me feel the most secure.

I didn't have to worry about being attractive enough or feeling uncomfortable if he touched me a certain way.

You see, I was molested at a young age by a neighborhood boy. His mother would watch us from time to time and he took an interest in me and did things every chance he got. I have always been one to use unhealthy sexual interactions as a self punishment. It's also normal for me to disassociate when being intimate.

Not to mention I was addicted to anything that came into my path since an early age.

I never loved myself. I never knew what it felt like to be loved. My father was an addict and was a single father since my mother passed when I was three. So attention wasn't something I was used to. Well, unless it was from the neighborhood boy. Or my teachers huddled around talking about how dirty or uncapable I was. "Where is your father?" Was a question I would grow to hate more than my own flesh. Anyways enough of the sad story. We all have them.

Back to this long distance phone relationship. I some how found my safe corner.

I drifted away from drugs and started finding pleasure in myself and being home at night.

I would trace my body. All my soft spots and would whimper and moan and make myself cum from the safety of my own hands. While his sweet loving voice encouraged me and loved me. For everything I was or everything I wanted to be. At times I felt so solid and clean and healthy and on a path to love. Other times I would sink back into my self doubt and reality. At the time I was starting to take care of my sick father who found himself at my doorstep. After he ran his life into the ground. I began feeling the weight of my childhood come creeping back. The only way I got through childhood was finding things to drink, swallow or sniff. My phone lover couldn't save me. Even if he wanted to. My self loathing and past was to dark for anyone. He began to make plans and dreams for our future. When all I started to do was find ways to avoid him so I can hide my monsters. So I can crush up xanax and sniff them with out explaining how it was my fourth or fifth one of the day. I started falling asleep mid sentence with him on the phone. I would say I would call him back and fail to do so. He even came out to California. I ghosted him for the first few days. Finally I was wasted and brave and showed up to his hotel room one night. He embraced me and loved me just the same. He felt like sunshine like a home I never had. I didn't think I deserved any of it. I didn't think he deserved any of my bullshit. So I fucked that friendship/relationship into the ground. See I can do it too dad.

Its been many years since then. He has married and probably has towels with their initials on them hanging up in their double sink bathroom. I have foolishly and selfishly tried reaching out. I think its another way to punish myself. Oo or better yet maybe show him I survived and am worth loving. Or maybe I'm right it's just another way to rub glass into my own wounds. Who knows.. Even though I have been clean from alcohol, pills, and cocaine for many years now. I still find ways to hurt myself. I recently was having a beautiful time visiting my aunt. I knew her land line wouldn't be noticeable so I used it to call him. I left a stupid voice mail. When I hung up I went to the restroom and threw up. How embarrassing am I?

I'm as solid as I've ever been but I still will never feel the safety as I did when I was loved by him. Its my own fault.

Anyways had to tell someone.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Just Beneath The Flames (Part 13)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Warnings: cursing, smut at some point probably lmao, zombie shit, typical canon violence. You know the drill.

A/N: Alright, bitches, I’m back! Well not fully, I’m still sick as fuck but I’m here and I got the next chapter done lmao I’m trying a whole mind-over-matter approach right now, not only because it's killing me not being able to write, but I’m going to a candlelight rock opera thing on Wednesday. I booked the tickets last year and they weren’t cheap and like fuck I’m not being able to go. If I’m too sick to go, I’m not above throwing a tantrum like a toddler that got their candy taken away from them looool Pray for me.

I almost left you guys on a really mean cliffhanger with this one, not gonna lie. But I’m trying to keep my chapters consistently long and this one fell a little short, so I decided to not be a huge bitch to you guys and add some more. You're welcome lmao

—-----------------

The putrid smell of rancid and decaying flesh hit your nose and you wretched, covering your mouth quickly as you turned to the side.

“Holy shit,” Billy muttered and when you looked over at him, he was covering his mouth with his arm, squinting slightly at the car that held the offending smell. The highway you’d visited with him once was closer to your current camp than the old one and you’d decided to come here to grab what you could. Knowing the looming threat of yet another hostile group was hanging over you, you all wanted to be prepared. The group had been discussing recently whether or not to go just go down to Virginia. You’d been firmly for the idea even though you loved the current set-up. You were too worried about the group's safety, especially when it came to Sarah and the kids. She was around five months pregnant now or thereabouts, none of you were one hundred percent sure. The idea of being here with this threat when it was time for her to give birth was unsettling but you also had a dark feeling things would come to a head way before then. The issue with going down to Virginia though was not knowing if the safe house was even still standing or safe anymore. You could all pack up and go, only to find you had no place to go and you’d have given up the cabin for nothing, so you understood the reservations. So far, it was only you, the Liebermans and Matt that had voted to go, whereas Billy, Frank, Karen, Foggy and Curtis all thought it was best to wait a little longer. Karen, Foggy and Curtis were all worried about giving up such a good place for potentially nothing, Curtis saying the set-up here would work great for a birth. Billy and Frank wanted to stay because they were confident they could neutralize the threat before it was too late. You believed in them, you really did, but it didn’t mean you weren’t worried. None of you really knew how many of these people there were and it was like Rawlins all over again with not even knowing where they were to hit them first. Once again, you were all waiting to see what happened and you really didn’t like it. 

You opened your mouth to speak but the smell of the death-filled car made your mouth clamp right shut again as you heaved and shook your head.

“I got it,” Billy said, giving you a sympathetic smile as he patted you on the back. You nodded and hurried away, wanting to get as far away from the smell as possible. To some degree, the stench of death didn’t bother you half as much as it used to, but the car had three dead bodies in it that had sat there for god knows how long and it was overwhelming. You made your way over to where Frank and Karen were rifling through a car. 

“You look a little green around the gills there,” Frank smirked, amusement shining in his eyes and you glared at him.

“Hey, Frankie, come help me with this,” Billy called over. Frank nodded and you looked at Billy, catching his smirk directed at you as Frank made his way over.

“Jesus fuck!” he cried out once he got there, heaving louder than you had and it made you snort. Karen giggled, shaking her head fondly at him as she looked through the trunk of a car.

“What do you think?” she asked as she held a pretty floral maxi dress against her.

“It looks good. Not sure how good it would be for running through,” you remarked wryly, noticing the lack of space for legs to run effectively. She pouted, leaning against the trunk with a sigh.

“I miss wearing pretty clothes,” she mused with a frown and you smiled softly before grabbing your knife from your thigh. She was still holding the dress and watched you curiously as you grabbed the bottom before tearing slits up to the thighs on both sides.

“There you go. Now it's pretty and practical,” you smirked and she grinned widely, stuffing it into the duffel bag that was beside her on the floor. She grabbed the bag that was now stuffed full of clothes before taking it over to the truck and tossing it over into the bed. Matt walked over to you then with a backpack in one hand and something in his other. 

“Find anything good?” you asked and he smiled at you before he handed you the object. It was a Hersheys bar and your eyes lit up as you took it.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured with a rueful smile and you grinned, stuffing it into your jacket pocket quickly. 

“Thank you,” you beamed, already excited to eat it.

“Figured I owed you one after you found me some sunglasses,” he smiled back. You felt eyes on you and you looked over to the car Frank and Billy were going through to see Billy already looking over. You couldn't read his face but his eyes were narrowed a little bit at you and Matt and it made you look away. He always got a little weird when you and Matt were together and you remembered Frank’s remark about him being jealous. You and Billy had become sort of best friends, in a different way than him and Frank. You knew he had issues from growing up in the group home and you wondered if he felt like Matt was trying to take his friend away. It sounded juvenile in your own head but it was the only thing you could come up with and you knew he was a complicated man. 

Not long after, you all decided to pack up and leave, Frank, Karen and Matt in the truck and you and Billy in the bed with the goods you’d found. It had been a little over a week since you’d been held at gunpoint by the new group and the past couple of days, you’d all been coming to the highway to take bits and pieces but never staying too long. Frank had people taking watch all the time now, two people on day shift and two at night. He’d been getting along with his makeshift fence that was basically big branches with sharpened ends but he’d only gone around the back of the cabin for now. It was proving a lot more work than any of you had thought. Foggy and Curtis were currently taking watch for the day and you and Billy would be on night shift tonight. You didn’t mind pulling the night shift so much, you’d been having problems sleeping anyway. You yawned into your hand as the truck jostled you a little and you felt Billy wrap his arm around your shoulder. You glanced up at him with a smile and he smiled back as you leaned into him, relaxing against his side as you all made your way home. When you got back, you all put your stuff away and you were feeling hopeful about the amount of food you had. Winter wasn’t over yet but even when it would be, food was going to be the hardest struggle you’d all face for however long you lasted. Eventually, the canned goods would run out which is why you wanted to be able to grow your own crops. You didn’t want to have to rely on runs so much to find food and hunting was great but even that wouldn't be enough to sustain you all forever. The day seemed to fly by and before long, it was late and you were getting ready for watch. You felt well-fed, Karen had cooked some soup with rabbit that you’d caught and you jogged down the stairs before slipping out of the front door. Billy was already waiting outside, leaning against a tree with his gun on him, machete attached to his belt. You had your knife and your bow, ready for anything that would come your way. When he looked over at you, the smile he shot you made your breath catch in your throat and you smiled back.

“Ready?” he asked, pushing off the tree.

“Yep,” you replied with a nod. The pair of you started off walking the perimeter of the camp like you always did on watch. As you both walked, you grabbed the candy bar from your pocket, opening it and breaking it in half before handing Billy half of it. He looked shocked when he saw it, a slow smile curling his lips as he took it from you.

“Where’d you find this?” he asked in amazement and you shrugged.

“The highway,” you answered, being vague because you had a feeling if you admitted Matt had given it to you, he might not like it so much. You’d toyed with the idea of giving it to the kids but honestly, you really just wanted to share it with Billy and make him smile. You hadn’t been able to shake how upset he’d been a little over a week ago and you’d done your best to keep him company and make him feel better. He’d seemed fine for the most part but you knew what he was like. You knew he’d bottle it up even if he wasn’t until he erupted like he had with you. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmured with a mouthful of the chocolate and you snorted as you ate your own. 

“I know. If I knew the world would go to hell, I’d have stocked up on chocolate,” you smirked, licking your fingers clean as you finished it off. 

“What do you miss most about the old world?” he asked softly as you walked. He caught you off guard a bit, he never seemed the type to reminisce about that kind of stuff and you glanced at him.

“I miss a lot of shit,” you shrugged with a wry smile and he nudged you with his elbow, giving you a look. 

“Come on, you gotta miss somethin’ in particular,” he insisted. There was so much you missed about the old world and you had a feeling he wasn’t really talking about people, not wanting to open that depressing can of worms. 

“I miss… snacks and… and TV. I miss getting drunk and just being able to relax. I miss donuts and coffee and not being scared every time I meet people. I guess part of me misses all the mundane things, how normal and easy it was. But now… I’m different now, I don’t think I’d settle back into the old world, even if we had the chance,” you answered honestly, feeling heat creep into your face at your boring answer. He looked at you for a long moment before he nodded, looking thoughtful.

“I get that. I miss good food… I miss work. I loved my job, gave it everythin’ I had. I miss my fuckin’ suits and just… just the power I felt when I wore ‘em. I miss goin’ to the bar with Frankie and Curt, miss Karen’s dinner parties even if she got all fuckin’ anal about it,” he snorted wistfully and it made you smile. 

“I remember when I got out of the Marines… I missed it and didn’t all at the same time. Too much bad shit happened for me to wanna stay but part of me always felt like I still belonged out there on the battlefield. I guess you really should be careful what you wish for, huh?” he asked wryly.

“You and Frank are definitely more equipped for the new world than I am,” you murmured softly and he smiled.

“I guess part of us never really left the war,” he mused thoughtfully. “You adapted though. It's admirable… Me and Frankie… this shit ain’t new to us, not really. But you and the others… you had to get used to this shit and you had to do it real quick. Says a lot about how strong you are,” he added, giving you a look with his warm eyes.

“I’m just a stubborn bitch, I guess,” you smirked and he snorted. The night continued the same way, the pair of you walking the perimeter and talking quietly among each other. You’d had to put a few roamers down when you came across them but other than that, it was pretty uneventful. You didn’t let your guard down, not even with the comfort of Billy by your side. The new group was ever-present in the back of your mind and you knew all it would take was for you to be caught off guard for the whole thing to go up in flames. Once the sun came up, you stayed out a little longer and you felt the tiredness set in. It didn’t matter how tired you got these days, sleep rarely came and if it did, it was plagued with nightmares and memories you’d rather forget. Eventually, Frank and Matt came out to take over watch and you and Billy headed inside, getting breakfast from Karen before she ushered you both up the stairs. 

“Make sure you get some rest, alright?” Billy said, giving you a firm look as you both hovered outside of your respective doors.

“I’ll try,” you murmured wryly as you gave him a nod. A small part of you wanted to ask if you could stay in his room. You knew from experience that sleeping in close proximity to Billy seemed to soothe you in a way you’d not felt since before the turn. He seemed to keep all the bad things away and you felt well-rested and safe. You knew you couldn't though. You’d only just got your friendship back on track and you’d avoided thinking of the disastrous kiss as much as possible. Knowing it was at least part of the reason why he pushed you away, the other part being him overthinking about what he did to Rawlins, you really didn’t want to push your luck with him. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He hadn’t acted strange since you made up even though you knew he must be aware you felt something since you’d kissed him back. You hoped that when you told him the kiss was nothing that maybe he believed you. Instead, you gave him one last lingering look before you slipped into your room with a heavy sigh. You were exhausted and you knew you had to at least try and get some sleep, no matter what hellish landscape your brain would inflict on you. The last thing you needed was to pass out at some point at the most inopportune time and put everyone in danger. You tugged your boots off before flopping onto the bed, wriggling around to get under the covers. You only lay there for a few moments before a restless sleep tugged you under once more. 

A few days later and you still were nowhere near as well rested as you’d hoped to be. When you’d woken from your sleep after night watch, you’d lied to Billy about getting some sleep and he’d made it obvious he wasn’t buying the bullshit you were trying to sell to him. Thankfully, he’d dropped it but you knew he was worried. He seemed to find it hard to mask the emotion on his face when it came to you. You were grateful that the next few days seemed to go by smoothly and while sleep wasn’t coming easy to you, you’d been able to just take things slowly and pick up doing mundane chores to try and earn some energy that way instead of out there fighting off the dead or the living. It had been nice and peaceful and the longer you were a part of this group, the more you lost that part of yourself that had the itch to be out fighting and constantly on the run. You were part of this family now and the urge to be settled and safe overrun your previous feelings of the staleness you’d felt. Maybe it was like Billy had once said. He’d told you he had his family to fight for and that's what kept him going and maybe you needed that too. You’d been firmly against the idea, not wanting to get attached but it happened anyway and here you were. And while yes, you were worried about the people you’d grown to care about, the deep-rooted need to keep them safe at all costs was more than enough to give you a drive and a purpose you’d once lost. You grabbed your quiver and slung it over your shoulder before leaving your room, jogging down the stairs to the lower floor. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Matt asked as he saw you.

“Nah, I’m good. Frank needs you here,” you smiled, quickly checking your bow was ready and that you had your knife. You’d already had the same conversation with Billy earlier. Frank was adamant the fences really needed to get going since it wasn’t even halfway done so he wanted to get all hands on deck with chopping wood. Billy was helping him, hence why you’d told him he couldn’t come. The only reason why you weren’t going was because while the fences were important, so was food. It felt like you were going through it at a rapid rate and you were desperate to find Sarah something better than what was left in cans so you’d decided to go out hunting for a while. You hoped to find something good or even just a lot of something small. Matt was helping Frank out too, Micro and Karen on watch for the day. You appreciated the offers for company, especially after the last time you went hunting you almost got killed, but you didn’t want to burden anyone. You had your walkie on you this time and you’d go the other way and hope you’d stay away from danger. Besides, you knew Billy would be pretty upset with you if you turned down his offer only to have Matt come with you. 

“Alright, just make sure your walkie's on and you know what to do if you need help,” Matt said with a small smile before he headed outside to where Frank, Billy and Foggy were. 

“You need anything before I head out?” you called over to Sarah. She was curled up on the sofa looking tired, Zach reading a comic on the floor and Leo was weaving something out of twine as she sat in one of the armchairs.

“We’re good, honey,” Sarah smiled wearily and you tried to hide your worry behind a smile of your own. 

“I’ll see you guys soon,” you said with a nod, earning a round of goodbyes before you slipped out of the door. You’d only just made it down the porch steps when Billy was coming over to you. His dark eyes drifted to the quiver on your shoulder, your bow in your hand, your knife strapped to your thigh before the walkie clipped to your belt in quick succession. You knew he was checking you were prepared instead of outright asking you and getting a mocking reply like usual. 

“You need anything, just hit me up,” he muttered, rolling his shoulder before his eyes darted over to where Frank was barking orders like he was back in the marines.

“I will, don’t worry so much,” you remarked wryly. He looked back at you then, raking his teeth over his lower lip.

“I’ll always worry… I can come with you, just lemme tell Frank-” he started, a small frown marring his face but you shook your head quickly.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I’m going the other way this time, I have my walkie on me. I’ll be fine. The quicker this fence gets put up, the safer we’ll be,” you tried to soothe. He’d been hovering around you more after what happened the last time you’d been hunting, not that you blamed him. But you didn’t need the world to stop turning just because someone had pointed a gun at you. It was surprisingly common in the new world and you decided to just get over it. He sighed deeply, shaking his head and clearly not happy about it. He wisely decided not to argue with you, knowing he wouldn't win. You knew he was already conflicted anyway. While he wanted to go and be with you so he could keep you safe, you knew he also wanted these fences up just as much as Frank did, that he needed his family to be as safe as they could be. He moved over, wrapping you in a hug that made you smile as you melted into him. 

“I’ll get us something good,” you said, voice muffled by his chest a little. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before moving away.

“Find us a deer and the next time I find some snacks, I’ll give ‘em right to you,” he smirked with a raised brow. 

“Deal,” you grinned, shifting your quiver a little after the hug had moved it. He nodded, his smirk fading as he gave you another worried look and you knew you had to leave or he really wouldn't let you go.

“Alright, I’ll see you later,” you murmured, giving him a nod before you stepped around him and set off out. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d be out, really wanting to find something before you got home. You wouldn't wait until dark though but you tried to make the most of your time out here. You’d already let the guys know you weren’t sure when you’d be back but you’d aim to be before dinner so they didn’t worry. You were sure that was part of the very reason why they were worried. You were out there for hours with nothing to show for it. There were no signs of deer much to your dismay and at one point, the dead had scared off a rabbit. You were frustrated and still tired and the idea of heading back to camp with nothing felt like a bitter smack to the face. You pushed further out than you usually did, hoping to find something. Anything. You’d been wondering lately about capturing rabbits to breed so you didn’t have to do so much hunting but the old you who had once been a vet shuddered at the idea of raising your own animals just to kill them. You knew at some point though the idea wouldn’t be so unappealing to you if everyone started to suffer because of lack of food. It was the constant worry on your mind. The dead were a threat but they weren’t as bad as you’d thought they’d be. It wasn’t like the zombie movies or shows, apart from large groups of them, they were easy to deal with. Hostile groups would come and go and while they’d be a more immediate and dangerous threat when around, the threat of food dwindling was something that would only gradually get worse over time. When the stores no longer had anything in them and the animals got less and less or harder to find. A deep frown graced your face as you tried to push those depressing thoughts from your mind and you blew out a sigh as you continued walking. You wouldn't let it get to that point. You’d plant your stupid little potato plants and hopefully find more crops to grow and you’d feed everyone even if you died trying. You stood in the middle of the trees, contemplating which way you should go and also trying to gauge the time so you wouldn't be caught out as it went dark when a gunshot rang out, making you jump behind a tree. Your heart felt like it stilled for a moment, dread sweeping over your entire body in a way that made you feel lightheaded. 

“There's one here, I think she’s part of that group,” a male voice said and you tried to breathe slowly and quietly as your eyes darted around. You figured the guy was with someone but no reply came and you wondered if he’d used a walkie. Your bow vs a gun wasn’t exactly a fair fight and you didn’t want to risk it so you took off running like a bat out of hell. There were more shots, all hitting the trees you were weaving through and you were thankful that the guy seemed like a bad shot. You had no destination in mind other than it being in the opposite way from camp. You wouldn't be leading this asshole there. You needed to deal with him but you couldn't just stop running or you’d get shot. Your lungs were burning, your legs aching fiercely as you weaved through the trees, stumbling over a tree root and only just catching yourself. 

“Motherfucker!” you yelped as you felt a burning sting on the side of your arm. You weren't sure if the bullet landed and you had no time to check as your legs pushed you faster and further. You had some distance between you and as you broke the treeline, you saw a gas station. You made a beeline for it, swinging open the door hurriedly and rushing inside. You were glad none of the dead were in here, making your life a fraction easier for you with not having to deal with them. You wasted no time in grabbing your knife and running to a row of shelves and hiding behind them. It wasn’t like he wouldn't be able to find you but it gave you the upper hand and you’d damn well use it. You stood at the side of the shelves, chest heaving and your hand shaking as it held the knife. You had a brief moment where you checked your arm. The bullet had grazed it but not gone through and you were thankful, even if it stung like a bitch. You heard the bell above the door jingle, heard the man speaking down his radio yet not being able to hear what he said over your loud heartbeat in your ears. You had your knife poised and ready as you peeked around the shelf, seeing him looking around. You rushed him and it had the desired effect of disarming him as his gun fell and slid across the floor. There was no way you could take him down with the gun. You tried to swing your knife at him but he grabbed you, throwing you like you weighed nothing and your head painfully connected with the counter. The pain was sickly, making your vision go funny for a moment and you already felt the warm trickle of blood down the side of your head. As he lunged at you, you used his momentum as you poised your knife just at the right time and it got him through the eye. You might have heaved at the noise it made if your head wasn’t spinning and you shoved the man off you, your knife still in his eye and you lay there panting, eyes closed as you tried to ease the pain in your head. Your hands trembled as you unclipped the walkie from your belt and you had a feeling Billy wouldn’t let you out of his sight after this. 

“Anyone there, it’s Artemis,” you mumbled into the walkie, your words slightly slurred and you knew you’d have a wicked concussion. 

“Ares here, what happened?” Billy asked quickly, clearly picking up on your voice. It reminded you of when he’d had to come and save you after the time Rawlins had sent someone to kill you and you felt shame prickle at you.

“I’m hurt. Someone from the other group found me… I killed him but… a bullet grazed me and I hit my head pretty hard,” you frowned, blinking slowly up at the ceiling. Why was it spinning like that?

“Where are you?” he asked rapidly and you could hear the concern lacing his tone. 

“A gas station… South… I think… I don’t know,” you muttered, fighting with your eyes to stay open. Your vision felt like it was fading in and out and you felt nausea bubbling up inside of you. 

“We’re on our way, alright?” Billy said firmly. You didn’t get a chance to reply though as your eyes rolled back and darkness consumed you.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Your mind seemed to wake before anything else and you felt the pain that radiated from your head and seemed to reverberate through every inch of you. You tried to open your eyes but they felt heavy, much like the rest of you.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

You groaned softly, your hand finally able to move as it came to gingerly touch the side of your head. Your eyes opened slowly and you winced at the motion and the stab of pain it sent your brain. When you removed your hand and looked at it, there was no fresh blood so you knew the cut hadn’t been too bad to need stitches. It still hurt like a motherfucker though. 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

You frowned, moving to sit up and you took a harsh breath as the world felt like it was all topsy-turvy for a moment. You blinked quickly as if to clear your blurry vision and looked over at where the banging was coming from. There was a roamer pawing at the door of the store, wanting to get in. But more startling than that was how dark it was. It was nighttime now and your frown deepened. Billy and no doubt Frank were supposed to be coming for you and that must have been hours ago. Maybe you got the direction wrong, you hadn’t been able to keep track with running from gunfire like that and your concussion had made it hard to really think clearly about where you might have gone. You licked your chapped lips, swaying a little where you sat before you grabbed the walkie that was now lay on the floor.

“Anyone there?” you asked slowly, rubbing between your brows as if that would help the intense pain you were feeling. Nothing but silence greeted you. The kind of silence that made your insides turn to ice and you glared over at the dead one as it continued to bang on the door. You knew you needed to deal with it or leave before the noise drew others. 

“It’s Artemis,” you added afterwards. You knew they’d already know that though, they’d recognise your voice. But part of you hoped maybe that was the reason why they hadn’t answered. More silence greeted you and it made your stomach twist in knots. Whenever you were away from him, Billy always made sure to have his walkie on him. And even if he didn't, someone usually did. Never once in your time having your walkie had you not been able to get through to anyone. It made you feel sick. You pushed up on shaky legs to stand, wobbling a little and trying to take steadying breaths as you pushed yourself to move. You couldn't sit here all night and hope for the best, not when the new world was cruel and loved to rip away everything you ever loved. You weren’t sure how up to dealing with a roamer you were in your current state so instead, you grabbed your stuff and slipped into the back room and then out of the back door. You were relieved no more dead seemed to be around as you tried to figure out where the hell you were and how to get home. Once you found the crescent moon hanging in the sky, partially hidden behind a blanket of clouds, your eyes darted around for the North Star and then you knew which way to go and set off. You weren’t as quick as you’d like to be with everything feeling like it was moving like liquid around you. Despite the risk you knew it would pose, especially if there were more assholes out here looking for their friend, you ended up sticking to the road so as not to get lost. Your usually great navigational skills weren’t up to par and you knew if you followed this road, it would take you to the cabin. You probably looked like a dead one with how you shuffled down the road, blood coating the side of your face and your arm. You tried the walkie numerous times on the way and each time got nothing in response. You tried to tell yourself that Billy and Frank had gone to look for you, that you’d led them the wrong way and that Billy would be pissed when you finally turned up because he’d been worried. But deep down, the fact that not one person was responding to you filled you with so much dread that you felt like you couldn't breathe. You’d gotten pretty attuned to when something wasn’t right, having to deal with it more than you thought was fair. And right now, alarm bells were sounding off in your head as you made your way back home. 

When you got to a stretch of the road you knew was close, your body was thrumming with anxiety. Anxiety that skyrocketed to outright blind fear when your eyes caught a few things that were definitely out of place and shouldn't be there. The first was a plume of smoke coming from where you knew the cabin was. It wasn't much, almost looking like there was no fire but there might have been not too long ago. The next thing was the small group of roamers, only around four, ambling about in the road and through the trees. None of the dead should be this close to the cabin, you knew someone should be on watch. You stopped dead in the street, the pain in your head forgotten as a more pressing pain in your chest began. You refused to believe anything bad had happened, not again, it couldn't have. You shook your head as you pushed yourself to keep walking, grabbing your bow and loading it up. You let your arrows fly one after the other until the small group was gone. But as you got closer, able to see the cabin, you noticed the door was wide open and a few more dead were inside. Your breathing came in quick and harsh, eyes drifting up to where the smoke was, only to find a hole blown right through the top floor where you knew Frank and Karen’s room was. Your ears were ringing but it wasn’t the concussion, eyes darting around quickly as you started to take in more and more of the scene. Dead bodies lay scattered around in front of the house, bullet holes riddled the wood and some of the windows shattered. You stumbled back, eyes squeezing shut and you shook your head.

“No… no!” you growled through your tears, the pain in your chest turning into full-blown agony. The couple of dead ones in the house heard you, stumbling out and down the steps and you hated the fact you looked at them trying to see if they were anyone you recognised. You didn’t though and you killed them quickly before hurriedly checking the bodies outside, turning them over one by one with tears streaming down your cheeks. With each body you turned, you felt the pain get worse despite them not being anyone you knew. The full blown pain you felt at turning over one of them to see someone you loved made you feel sick. You couldn't deal with this, not again. You wiped your eyes angrily after checking the last body out here as you stared at the open doorway, terrified what you might find once you got in there. Images flashed through your head of Sarah laying dead with the kids, of the others strewn about covered in blood or Billy walking around with milky eyes. A broken sob left your lips as your knees hit the floor with a hard thump, your shoulder shaking violently. You didn’t have it in you to check inside yet even though you knew you needed to. You didn’t think you could carry on if everyone was dead, not again. You’d only just manage to pick up the pieces after the last time but this time, it would kill you.

After a while of you crying, you felt a numbness creep in that was mildly relieving but also unsettling. You pushed up off the floor, stepping around the many bodies scattered around as you slowly walked up the porch steps. Everything was eerily silent now and it was too loud, fraying your already raw nerves. You stepped into the cabin, eyes quickly darting around. Three bodies lay on the floor and you noticed first they were all male. You turned them over one at a time, a tiny sense of relief when they were all strangers to you. You wiped your eyes again, looking around once more. You knew it was the group that had done this, it looked like they’d turned up and ambushed everyone. You moved through the cabin feeling like you were moving through molasses as you checked every single room with dread. It was only once you were in the last room, the one with the gaping hole in it, that you felt your body relax. They weren't here. It still didn't mean they all got out. They could have been injured, anything could happen to them out there. You didn’t want to think about that though, you wanted to focus on the fact that had in fact made it out. That was enough for now. It was only then that you looked out through the charred hole that your brain registered the truck wasn’t on the road anymore. The idea of them leaving you behind didn’t sting at all. What were they supposed to do? Wait for you here and hope you turned up? Maybe they’d been looking for you too, maybe they hadn’t really left you behind. With a new determination to find your family, you made your way downstairs and grabbed a bag, packing it with some cans and bottled water. The cabin was ruined, a safe space now gone along with the potential life you all had here. Once you were ready, you walked outside and set off out to the only place you could think of that they might have gone if they wanted to meet back up with you. You weren't sure what to do if they weren't there, weren’t sure if they just presumed you were dead after your conversation with Billy and just decided to head right down to Virginia first. You tried to ignore the treacherous voice in the back of your head. Even if they had left you in the dust, it was better than them being dead. The idea of starting over without them was painful, but if they were alive, at least you wouldn't have to go through that grief again. Maybe you’d just head down to Virginia yourself and hope you'd stumble across them one day. You knew it was stupid, a mere pipedream if anything, yet it was all you were holding onto as you made your way back to their old camp, hoping they’d be there waiting for you. But as you walked through the trees with shaky legs and an aching head, you wondered why the fuck you were trying to be so hopeful when life just kept proving to you it was useless. Good things really didn’t exist anymore.

Taglist: (if you’ve been asked to be tagged and aren’t here, it wouldn’t let me tag some people.)

@firexfate

@blanchedelioncourt

@on-ya

@sunshinedaisies-anddeath

@snowkestrel

@music-indie-tv

@idaofinfinity

@sweetserendipity65

@ramadiiiisme

@k-marzolf

@celestialams

@woowwwee

@noortsshift

@rainbowgoblinfan

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

Take the Chance - Darby x Emery

Finally back with some more Dark Angel of the Bullet Club content! I've been in my Darby feels here lately and I had been wanting to do this piece for a while-- so happy with how it turned out!

Word Count: 1,753

Tag List: @summertimefun1982 @katries (If you want added to the tag list, let me know! )

(border)

“Friends don’t shake hands—Friends hug!”

Emery stood backstage, watching the screen with disgust, her arms crossed. Her body shuddered as the tingling went down her spine and ran through her arms and legs. Beside her stood Darby, arms crossed in front of him, and as the interview ended, he shook his head slowly, disbelievingly.

“I think I’m gonna be sick….” Emery muttered, causing a ghost of a smirk to float across Darby’s face, but it quickly faded. Wordlessly, he lifted his hands and raised the hood over his head before turning away from the TV.

Shaking her head, Emery continued watching the screen for a moment, the next match’s participants doing their entrances before the sound of a consistent whirring reached her ears. Curiosity peaked, Emery turned her head to the side, glancing behind her just in time to see Darby float by, disappearing out of her line of sight. Turning around completely, her brown eyes watched in fascination, attention glued to him as he passed by her once again, heading in the opposite direction.

It was intriguing to her how Darby was able to balance so effortlessly on the board, shifting his weight just enough to alter his direction and turn around. His eyes briefly flickered in her direction, noticing her attention on him before kicking off the ground again and speeding up again. As he reached her, though, Darby altered once more and stepped off before stomping on the end, sending the tip toward the sky, and catching it in his hand.

He turned his crystal blue eyes in Emery’s direction, looking every bit the bringer of death with his back and white face paint, tattoos, and hooded cloak. His lip twisted up slightly once more, causing Emery’s breath to catch in her throat as she stood there staring at him.

“Wanna ride? I got an extra board.”

Brown eyes widened as she began to shake her head, waving her hand a few times, “No, no- that’s—that’s fine. I’ll… pass…”

Emery averted his gaze, looking down to the side, thus missing his eyes narrowing ever so slightly at her answer. Four months ago, if you had told him that the two of them would become close friends, that he would seek her out backstage on multiple occasions, that he would worry about her safety when she would be in the ring or ringside—Darby would’ve laughed at you and called you an idiot.

But here they stood, and though he might never admit it to anyone, Darby considered Emery one of his closest friends, one of the few people he trusted… one of the few people he whole-heartedly cared about, maybe as more than an ordinary friend. And that scared him, which was something Darby would never admit.

“Emery…” he drawled softly, catching her attention, “Do you… not know how to skate?”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, goosebumps raising her skin over Emery’s entire body as she again lowered her gaze. The wordless admission stirred something inside of Darby—and after fighting an inward battle with himself, whether or not he should make his feelings known or not.

Was that a line he was ready to cross?

Would it only chase her away? If it did, would he be able to stomach losing her?

“Fuck it,” thought Darby before stepping towards Emery and slowly raising his hand towards her face. His fingers dipped under her chin, his thumb resting on the top of her chin, just under her bottom lip. With a gentle pressure, Darby lifted her head until their eyes met. He could feel the whirlwind of emotions flow through her by looking into her brown orbs: uncertainty, surprise, worry, hope… and something more….? Or was he seeing what wasn’t there?

“Do you trust me?” Darby questioned, his voice barely audible. Emery felt her breath catch in her lungs once more, as she could feel his breath fan across her face from how close they were standing. Slowly, she nodded, a breathy ‘yeah’ in response. Darby stood there, staring into her eyes for a moment before seeming to return to his senses and dropping his hand from her face, taking a step backward.

Placing a foot on the end of his board for leverage, he lowered the skateboard back to the ground and stepped around it before stretching his hand out for Emery to take. After a brief moment of hesitation as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves, Emery reached a shaking hand out towards Darby’s extended one. When he felt her skin on his own, Darby reached out his other hand for her to grab onto before lifting his foot onto the middle of the board to steady it.

“Step onto it, one foot at a time…” he gently instructed, watching as she looked down before slowly lifting her left foot and placing it on the board. However, as Emery moved to place her other foot, the board began to shake, and panic flew through her. Her hands gripped Darby, both feet quickly dropping back onto the floor below.

“It’s alright, I got you,” Darby told her, his thumbs beginning to rub soothing circles into her hands, “Try again…”

One more big breath before attempting it once more, Emery lifted her left foot onto the board.

“Take your time…”

Listening to his advice, Emery slowed down and took a few more breaths before trying her right foot again. Now aware of the wiggle of the board, she was prepared for it this time—and as she lifted her foot, her grip tightening on Darby once more, Emery quickly stepped fully onto the skateboard below her. The speed sent the wheeled object into a minor frenzy as it wiggled even more below her, causing her brown eyes to widen in fear as she stared at the floor.

Darby kept his foot planted on the center of the board, ensuring it wouldn’t move from its spot until Emery was ready. A few minutes passed as she worked on evening out her breathing, before slowly Emery looked up from the floor below to find Darby’s icy blue eyes trained on her, not blinking, patiently waiting.

He noticed her breathing evened out and squeezed her hands ever so softly in encouragement; now the fun began.

“Ready?”

“….for what?...” Emery asked, not sure she liked where this was going.

“Can’t just stand there lookin’ pretty,” Darby smirked, not even thinking about his choice of words until they fell from his mouth.

Emery’s eyes widened in surprise and fear—unsure which was affecting her more. The fact that she now had to move while on the board…. Or that she was almost positive Darby just flirted with her.

Had he?

No…. he couldn’t have.

Could he?

“I’ll be right here,” Darby told her, “I ain't gonna let anything happen to you….”

Giving him a shaky nod, Emery tried mentally preparing herself for what would happen. Slowly, Darby began to sidestep but stopped after only two moves as Emery swayed dangerously. Her hands tightened around his, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s alright… I got ya…” he soothed before pulling his arms back. Emery’s arms followed, still hanging onto Darby for life. Gently, one at a time, he uncurled her fingers from him and placed her hands onto his shoulders. Then, deciding not to even think about his actions, Darby reached out and placed his hands on Emery’s waist. He heard her take a deep breath in at the contact, which stirred something deep within him, but he ignored it momentarily.

Without giving a warning, Darby began sidestepping once again, going along the hallway slowly.

“Open your eyes….” He encouraged her softly, and after a moment, her eyes flickered open hesitantly.

“Oh my….!”

“See? Not so bad, is it?” Darby asked, a gentle, knowing smile on his face. Her grip on his shoulders eased slightly as a small smile floated across her face, and Emery looked around.

As he walked along, an idea came to his mind, and once again, he didn’t stop to think it over before acting upon it. He told her, and told himself, that nothing would happen to Emery- and he meant that. So, if this went south, Darby would put his body on the line to keep her safe.

With her attention still diverted from him, Darby stepped onto the board and pushed off the floor, sending them floating down the hallway quickly- his hands still firmly on Emery’s waist. The sudden change caused Emery to let a screech escape her throat, her arms slipping from Darby’s shoulder and wrapping around his neck, tightening and closing any distance between them.

Darby’s experience on boards allowed him to keep them balanced as they went along, every so often reaching down with one leg and pushing off to keep them gliding. Emery stared up into his eyes, afraid to look anywhere else- but also finding herself not wanting to look away from him.

He offered her a small smile, his heart fluttering when she returned it. They were coming to the end of the hall, where a small ramp led to the outside, and Darby gave her a mischievous smile at the knowledge. Her brow crinkled in confusion before the sudden drop was felt, and she let a startled noise escape her throat- but kept her arms wrapped around Darby. After a few moments, the road leveled out, but before the skateboard stopped, Darby tightened his hands on Emery’s waist once more. Suddenly hopping off the board, he took her with him, his grip on her changing as one arm slinked around her waist and the other dropped to support her thighs. A startled sound came from her, but it quickly turned into a soft giggle as she peered down into his eyes, Emery’s arms loosely draped around the back of Darby’s neck.

The world around them seemed to disappear, and for that moment it was just the two of them. After a moment, Darby slowly lowered her to the ground below them, the two continuing to stare into the others’ eyes.

Nothing needed to be said between them, there was nothing that either could mutter that could match the moment. Instead, Emery rested her head against Darby’s shoulder as his arms wrapped around her a little snugger, leaving absolutely no space between them.

She was his humanity, his angel, and he would be damned if he let anything happen to her.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Backdoor Deal With the Devil: Part 4: Awakening

Calum meets Eve in a bar. And it would be a normal story. However, Eve’s more than he bargained for, and so, the story’s never so simple.

Black!OC.

CW: 18+ content (Smut); descriptions of Overall series contains: Christian religious themes, mentions of death, and smut (18+ only).

Word Count: 24K+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Enjoy my masterlist

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Eve leans against the door of her storage unit. The keys are clipped to her belt loop for the moment, providing a soft clicking sound with her movement. She’d gotten the unit after she and Calum divorced. Well, she moved units after the divorce. The place she was using before was hiking the rates up every three months and she kept paying it because she could feasibly do so. It irked her nerves how much they were going up though. When she and Calum divorced, Eve packed up her belongings and moved units. Now this place has oddly become a second home for her. She can transport between realms easily out here, considering this place is on the outskirts of the city. She was far enough out that if a tuft of smoke here or there cropped up, it didn’t matter to the folks around. Eve does have other options and she knows this. But she prefers solitude. 

Now, an out of the way storage unit which freezes in the night is Eve’s homebase. When she’s not with Calum or his kids, she’s here. It’s secure enough and Eve’s not really worried about her own safety too much. She did her work when everyone else was asleep and then managed to use a gym to shower as needed. When Calum called for her, asked her to come and meet his family, she thought it would be short term. Perhaps, he was calling just for some sort of resolve. She worried that maybe he’d gotten sick in addition to Kelsie’s death. But that guess had been wrong. So far, she’d been Earth side consistently for about five months in total. This feels like she’s pushing into something distinctly not short term. She was now needing to consider if she should consider other alternative options to her belongings. Eve didn’t feel like investing in a place to rent. By the time she went through the whole ordeal, she might need to give it all up. She wasn’t going to assume she could move in with Calum. Nor was she going to be the one to ask either. 

And right as she slid down the door on her unit, preparing for her nightly shift in Hell, mostly patrols and checking in on happenings since her last descent, her phone buzzed. What are you doing tonight?

It’s from Calum and Eve tries to bite back her grin as her fingers work over the keyboard. Normal duties that I know of. Did something happen?

She waits, fingers brushing over her keys. The thread sits idle for a beat longer and then Calum’s name pops up on her screen. Eve answers the call without hesitation. “Nothing happened,” he laughs. “Why do you think something’s always happened?”

“I worry,” Eve returns. It’s a simple answer and it’s the truth. Eve does worry. She worries it’s one of the kids. She worries it’s Calum. She worries that even though she keeps thinking her time with Calum will be brief yet again and so far it was proving otherwise she would be right to worry in the end. Why stop worrying now?

“Well, let me be the first to tell you, there’s no reason to worry. I ask because I’d like to take you out tonight on a date. I know it’s very last minute. But can Hell wait one night?”

“My job comes with no guarantees,” Eve laughs, resting her head into the cool metal she’s leaning into. “But I can meet you at your place in, say, an hour. What are the festivities?”

“I can pick you up,” Calum offers. 

Eve snorts. “Calum, all my stuff is in a storage unit almost an hour of the city driving.”

“A storage unit?” The disbelief that paints Calum’s voice is thick. “Why so far?”

“Discretion. Can’t travel between realms with smoke all the time at the place in the middle of a shopping center, can I?” Peace is what Eve doesn’t say. She had a place she could use. It was in the city. Less discretion for sure, but mostly notably it was severely less peaceful. 

“You had an apartment before though.”

“Those are expensive. I’ve done a lot of odd jobs in my time and have more money than I know what to do with, but it doesn’t mean I have to spend it unnecessarily.”

“Where do you shower? Brush your teeth? Charge your phone?”

“Lately, your place.” Calum snorts at the tease and Eve continues on, “When I’m not with you, there’s a gym up the road here.”

“Is-is that working for you? You’re safe right?”

Eve takes in buzzing lights and the echoing hallways of the building around her. She only has clothes, some photos, and her lockbox stashed away. Most of her long standing money from her previous jobs and decades were spread across three different banking branches under various aliases. She could keep turning the assets over to herself every few decades as the granddaughter or daughter of whomever supposedly oversaw the estate previously. It wasn’t hard, though it did take some creativity and perfect timing. 

The only time Eve felt unsafe was when the guy who was escorting her to the unit on the first day she showed up kept checking out her tits. But a perfectly placed foot to trip him up and a bloody nose as Eve hissed above him easily rectified the behavior. He hides in the office when Eve comes in to pay for her unit in cash. 

“I’m safe,” Eve finally answers. “So, a date? What is the occasion?”

“Nothing major. There’s a sushi place about twenty minutes from me.”

“Sushi sounds nice.”

“There’s an ice-cream shop next door too. If you want to go there as well. Feel free to pack a bag of what you need and then you can get ready here instead of going to the gym to use their bathroom.”

Eve turns, back fully resting against the metal door. “Are you flirting with me, sir?”

“Oh, love, I have been flirting with you for ages now. What took you so long to notice?” A gag comes from the background and Eve laughs at the sound of Māra’s voice begging to be spared. “Grow up!” Calum giggles, clearly speaking to Māra. “I don’t gag when you talk boys.”

“I’d never stoop so low as to actually flirt with a guy in front of my own father,” Māra huffs.  “That is where we differ.”

“And which one of us decided to snuggle up next to dear old Dad while he was on the phone, hmm?”

“What?” Māra questions. “I needed snuggles.”

“Everything alright?” Calum’s voice dips. Eve hears how much sincerity is weaved into each word. It's a concern that drives the pause in her and Calum’s conservation so Māra can be tended to and Eve stays silent. She does almost want to offer that Calum can call her back if he needs and that they can raincheck the date. 

“Stupid stuff at school. We can talk later too.”

“Eve, let me call you back. Or we can talk when you show up,” Calum adds the last part and it’s soft. Perhaps, he’s worried Eve will default to stepping aside. 

“How much do you want that dinner date?” Eve asks. 

“How much do you want it?” Calum returns. He’d always want time with her. But Eve knows juggling his responsibilities as a parent were now more pressing than anything else. 

“I can come over. Let Māra know I said hi and that if she needs me, I’m good at avoiding cops.”

Calum laughs. “No, you’re good at egging them on. But I’ll see you when you get here. I think the boys are downstairs. They can let you in.”

“See you then,” Eve whispers and then gives her goodbyes. She slides the door back up, grabbing her gym bag, which is usually always ready to go. Eve digs out a spare pair of jeans and another top--something nicer than her normal. A black bustier top with mesh sleeves. Once she’s satisfied with the clothes for the outing, she double checks for all her necessities. It’s only been a few minutes but as she zips up the bag, she wonders if their outing will make press circuits. 

It’ll have been thirty years since the last time they were spotted out in public by paparazzi. Maybe given the years things would’ve died down for the band. They hadn’t toured in a while from what Eve had gathered--it’d been at least ten years since the last one. Instead they were all focusing on their families. Their last album had only been released two years ago. But their public presence seems to have died down. A lot of them had garnered a lot of respect in producing--Michael and Calum diving in a lot on that front. Ashton worked to collaborate with a lot of artists. Luke worked on some solo music between band albums.  It seemed that the band had its front, but all the members still had space to be something greater than the summation too. 

Eve can’t shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach. If someone does spot them, is this going to open a bigger can of worms? Is this going to undo them?

But there’s something under the worry. As Eve slings the bag over her shoulder and steps back out of her unit, she’s happy. Even if the storm of comments comes their way, at least she has Calum. Eve slides the door to her unit close and locks it back up before walking towards the back doors. She sets off towards the fields and when she gets about twenty yards out, she lets herself go, feels the pull at her bones and she doesn’t fight it until she’s at the bottom of the street to Calum’s house. 

It’s up on a hill and if it weren’t for all Eve’s years of training and her incessant desire to protect herself by any means necessary, she is sure the hill would kill her. It flattens out nicely near the top, but the incline is a gradual pain. It only really hits how high up his place is once the top is reached. There’s a burn in Eve’s thighs that she’s used to as she raps on the front door. “Coming!” she catches on the other side of the door. 

The front door opens to reveal Kiri. “Hey, Eve,” he grins, stepping aside to let her in.

“Hi, Kiri. How are you? Calculus still giving you trouble?”

Kiri snorts. “Semester ends in two weeks and I for one cannot wait to burn the textbook. But it’s going. How are you?”

“Good,” Eve nods. “I can supply kindling if needed,” she teases. 

“Could we try banishing it?”

“We can try,” Eve laughs. Kiri offers her a drink but Eve politely declines. “I think Dad’s in the guestroom. Or his room now it seems.” 

“Hi Eve!” Cailean pokes his head out from the dining area, hand raising in a wave. 

“Hi Cailean. How are you?” Eve shuffles a little deeper into the house, approaching Cailean from behind. She’s careful not to startle him, thankful her keys are still clicking on her belt loop. 

“Crushing it,” he grins. “You? Oh, a spendin’ the night bag? What has dear old Dad convinced you of this time?”

It only takes a quirk of her brow and a blank bored expression for Cailean to apologize. As well as he’d been raised, he always had the jokester streak in him. It had earned him quite a few of Eve’s famous stares. Where his father and his mother both had a pursed lip and stare, Eve’s whole face fell. It caused the rise of her brow to stand out more and pushed her lips into a pout. Cailean didn’t really want to see what would be earned after such a warning if he didn’t backtrack. So the apologies always come immediately. 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were gunning for trouble,” Eve returns, peering down at the human anatomy book in front of Cailean. 

“Would you believe me if I said you're one of the first people I could make those jokes too without fear of immediate death?” Cailean laughs, capping his highlighter. 

“I mean, I could be tempted.”

He shakes his head with a grin. “I don’t think I need to tempt that fate. But I’m just--I’m glad to see Dad getting back out there. It’s certainly been a strange time since Mom died so suddenly. I think mostly I just didn’t want him to get so focused on us he forgot about himself.”

Eve doesn’t want to state the obvious. Calum had reached out to her with only a few months shy of the year mark. There hadn’t been enough time for Calum to lose himself. But she imagines given just how involved Calum is with his kids the fear Cailean has is that the involvement becomes suffocation. 

“I’ll do my best to keep him out of you all’s hair,” Eve grins, resting a bit into the wall behind her. It’s the wall that separates part of the kitchen from the dining area. Behind her head and to the left she knows there’s a photo of Kelsie and the kids from a Christmas party just three years prior. Eve wonders briefly if they still have the sweaters from the photo.

“You’re doing a perfect job and letting him still be our dad and also keeping him from driving us crazy,” Cailean snorts. 

“You still haven’t said if anything is on your birthday list,” Eve counters. Cailean’s birthday would be approaching two weeks and some change after Christmas. Calum already had the gift Cailean had been eying already for Christmas but was still stumped about his birthday. She’d been asked by Calum to see if she could get anything more specific about him. But she is curious too. Now that her presence was more normal, she didn’t want to just be seen as Calum’s new old partner. Eve respects the family unit that comes with Calum. She respects who the children are as individuals too. “I mean, you’re driving now. You can’t tell me you don’t want anything.”

Cailean shakes his head. “Still a bit shy of a legal first tattoo so, guess we’ll have to wait.”

“Tattoo is easy. Can do that in my sleep. In the meantime, no shiny new rims? Cool leather jacket?” Cailean’s car was by no means fancy. It was a 10 year old Honda. Still new enough that it only had about 89,000 miles on it when it was bought but still old enough that it didn’t cost Calum an arm and a leg to get it. 

“If I’m honest, Eve, I don’t really care for that stuff. Just want time with my family, I guess.”

“Kelsie and Calum have raised you too well.” Eve pushes off the wall, one hand gently brushing over Cailean’s shoulder. “Pick a restaurant. Wherever you want. My treat.”

“Oh, Eve, I can’t,” he starts, scooting now so he’s facing her from the seated position he’s in in the chair. The head shake no is insistent. 

“None of that. Pick a restaurant. Wherever you want to go. It’s my treat. My birthday gift to you.”

“Does this mean you’ll come?” Cailean asks. 

Eve tilts her head a little, trying to assess what the gaze means, if she actually heard something like hope in the question. “Do you want me to join?”

“I thought you were the Devil, not a vampire who needed permission all the time. Yes, I’d like you to come.” 

It’s a jab Eve should’ve seen coming, but still Cailean’s quip makes her snort, choking just a little on the laugh. “I never want to assume,” she returns, catching her breath. “But by god, you do sound like Calum’s twin.”

“Apparently, Kelsie and I have raised them too well,” Calum states. He stands right at the edge of the living room that feeds into the dining area. He folds his arms across his chest and Eve makes a point not to look below his eyes. Undoubtedly, Calum’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. Even if he wore a shirt over the undershirt or just wore the undershirt, it would pull tight across his chest and the last thing Eve needed was the sight of Calum’s chest and biceps burned into her retinas in front of his children. He hadn’t let the workouts go. Though it is clear where age made him soft ever so slightly around his stomach, the gym kept his chest and arms in great shape. 

“Consider it a compliment,” Eve returns, crossing the room to stand in front of Calum. 

Calum takes Eve in for a moment. Her usual uniform of jeans and t-shirt were replaced with leggings and a looser blouse. It’s clear she was ready to head back down when he called. But he tries not to stare too long at the V in the shirt, the way her cleavage presses up into the cotton of the shirt. “Consider it taken as one. Did you still need to get ready before we head out? Or have my sons cornered you for good?”

Eves shakes her head with a grin. “I am never cornered. I’ll be ready in fifteen.” The kiss is soft that they share, chaste in how lightly their lips touch. Eve slips down the hallway to the guestroom, knocking before she peers her head inside. Where she might’ve anticipated Māra to still be stretched across the bed, the room is empty. 

Just as Eve’s stepping out from the quick shower, she can hear the click and drag of hangers from the closet. Calum, she assumes. It’s not much effort to get into the jeans but she does crack open the bathroom door, head peering out to the sight of Calum slipping his arms into a navy blue button up. “Cal, can you help me with the zipper?”

He freezes for a moment. Not because he’s upset. But because Eve had not called him anything other than his full name since she returned. “What did you call me?” He grins, turning to face her. 

“If you’re not going to behave, I will leave.” 

He crosses the distance to her, slipping his last arm through the sleeve. “It’s just good to hear from you. Missed it.” 

It’s only a whisper from Calum’s lips. But Eve hears it. Calum takes her hips into his hands and turns her around. Eve goes, one hand still holding the bustier to her body. “I hope you haven’t missed much,” Eve returns. The mirror above the sink reflects all of her face and just part of Calum’s profile. But she watches him in the mirror. The zipper catches and drags upwards, securing the top to her body. 

“It’s taken me slowing down each day to really know what I’ve missed. You’re among the list of things and people.”

“Oh, I’m no people,” Eve laughs. 

“But you’ve still been missed.” Calum kisses her temple, hands slipping over her bare shoulders and then around her neck. His arms follow the extended path of her chest and shoulder. Eve falls back into his chest. He traces the line of her face, down to her jaw, in kisses. 

“My tits too,” she snorts, referring to his earlier gaze. 

“You wore the V-neck,” Calum laughs. “You expect me not to look at your tits when they’re begging for attention.”

“They are most certainly not begging for anything!”

“I certainly beg to differ.” Calum presses another kiss to her cheek before pulling himself up to his full height. Calum guides Eve deeper into the bathroom, and turns so they’re both facing the mirror. “Anything else you need help with?”

“No, I think I’m okay. Just need to get shoes on.”

“Avoiding lipstick and mascara is probably a good idea.” The words come from deep in Calum’s chest and Eve watches his gaze drop from the mirror to her in front of him. 

“There you go again, misbehaving,” Eve reprimands, but pushes her hips back just a little into Calum’s crotch. It doesn’t shock her when she realizes he’s half hard. “But I’ve decided not to invest in too much makeup, in all honesty. Need the bags under my eyes to keep up with you.”

Calum snorts, fingers teasing at the exposed sides underneath Eve’s top. She pushes deeper into the arch. Not quite bent over the counter, but holding her weight up by her arms into it. “Yeah, what are you doing with an old fart like me anyway?”

“What can I say? I like them older.”

Calum finds the front of Eve’s chest, palms flat against the press of the bustier against her breasts and hauls her up. Her back flush into his chest. She drops her head to the side a little and Calum leans in, lips brushing ever so gently at the skin of her jaw. “Yeah, I’m the one robbing the cradle here. But you’re the one misbehaving now,” he whispers. 

Eve shrugs, tracing the veins in Calum’s hands with the tips of her nails. “Sue me.”

Calum’s laughter is soft, an exhale mostly from his nose. His lips paint another kiss to her skin. “While you may not need food to survive, I, for one, am hungry. But I won’t forget your behavior, kitten.”

“Let’s go before you starve,” Eve returns, turning to kiss Calum’s cheek too. She does specifically let the new nickname which has never come up between them before go. Maybe it would grow on her. Maybe it’s an honest mistake and Eve’s not about to make it more awkward. “First, do you want help with that?” she questions, hand slipping up between their bodies to cup Calum’s erection. 

“No, because you help me with that we will never make it to dinner.”

Eve concedes, but not without a slight squeeze and then peels herself out of Claum’s hold. Calum shakes his head at the taunt, but flicks off the light. Originally thinking of buttoning the shirt up, he opts to leave it fully undone but tucks his undershirt into the tops of his jeans. Eve follows behind Calum back to the front of the house. One of his hands is wrapped around hers, the other grabs the keys from the rack near the front door. 

“Oh, that’s cute!” The words are accompanied by a soft tap on Eve’s arm. 

Eve turns to Māra’s compliment and smiles. “Thank you.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Oh, it’s been years since I bought it, I think. But I think there’s a place in the mall that has something similar. I noticed it when I went to get new boots.”

“Dad would have a heart attack.”

“You’re fourteen. Of course I would have a heart attack,” Calum interjects. 

“My birthday is in three months. You let me buy the platforms!”

“Mar, those were shoes. The soles are as thick as my waist. Shoes and tops are different battles.” Calum’s stare is pointed. It’s as if he’s begging Māra to disagree with him. 

Māra sighs, passing a gaze to Eve. “See what I mean.”

Eve’s not sure if she should side with Calum or try to win with Māra. Because while the top isn’t at all scandalous, it does expose all of Eve’s shoulders, the upper part of her back, and it has cut-out on the sides. It covers the important bites, but it might be a bit much for someone young. “There’s also other cute stuff at the store,” Eve settles on. “The sort of things that won’t give your dad a heart attack. Do you like blazers? They had a cute red one, studded collar, sleeveless. Full length,” Eve tacks on, looking up to Calum. He squeezes her hands in thanks. 

“This weekend, we could go? Only if you want of course.” Eve offers to Māra. 

Māra looks over to Calum. “Can I?”

“If I’m not there, I need pictures. We are not doing any surprises,” he counters. 

“I mean at that point, just come,” Māra laughs. 

“Well, I,” Calum starts. It would be one of the first times that Māra had initiated more than a conversation with Eve. It would be a full on excursion. It would give them time to bond. He doesn’t want to intrude on that. 

Eve squeezes his hand, effectively cutting him off. “If Kiri or Cailean have to call me because they had to give you CPR, I don’t think I could take it. Just come.”

Calum nods. “Saturday? Your teeth cleaning is on Friday, tomorrow” he states to Māra. 

“You’re the one driving me,” Māra laughs. 

Calum sighs. “No, I mean I’m not sure if going tomorrow is a good idea because you get grumpy after the dentist.” Māra hadn’t loved the dentist since she had to get a filling back in elementary. She complained about the ache in her jaw for a week and has since made it a personal mission to never have another cavity again. If Māra’s given anything other than a nearly perfect visit, she pouts. Even still. Calum had to learn all the tricks to keep her happy--that do not include offering her anything sugar related. 

Māra bats her eyelashes up at Calum. “Shopping could make me less grumpy. I think it would lift my spirits, actually. Clean bill of health for my teeth and then a little treat.”

Eve snorts. “Tomorrow is okay with me--potential for grumpiness and all.”

“Tomorrow,” he agrees, kissing Māra’s forehead. “Don’t kill your brothers while I’m gone, okay?”

“No promises,” Māra giggles. 

“Remember where we keep the lye?” Calum teases. Māra nods with a thumbs up. Calum calls out to Kiri and Cailean over his shoulder to keep an eye out. It’s only outside in the slight breeze of the air that Calum turns to Eve. “Should we get a jacket for you?”

“I’m okay,” Eve laughs, but Calum’s shrugging out of his leather jacket and draping it over her shoulders. “Now you’re going to be cold.”

“Nurse me back to health when I get sick, yeah?”

“Happily,” Eve grins, taking his hand again.

“I’m sorry about calling you kitten earlier. It’s-it's a habit, I guess.” A habit he built with Kelsie. Not one he had with Eve. He’d noticed the mistake as soon as he let the pet name slip. But Eve hadn’t reacted poorly. Calum just needs to clear the air. 

Eve accepts the apology, the words dying on her throat that he doesn’t have to apologize. Calum would apologize. He always would. Perhaps sometimes the biggest grace Eve could give Calum was accepting the apology even if she never needed it. Calum did. That’s the thing that matters. 

The drive to the restaurant is relatively short, light conversation about Calum’s day at work. Calum makes doubly sure that Eve’s okay with the storage unit system she currently has. Though he’s more than sure she is capable of looking out for herself, he doesn’t love the idea that she’s not at least inside the city, close to a densely populated area. Eve manages to convince Calum to let things remain as they are for the moment, but the conversation naturally would be revisited. 

They get seated relatively quickly in the restaurant and Calum ensures to pull out Eve’s seat and she settles, shrugging out of the jacket draped over her shoulders. Out of habit, she glances down at the menu, though Eve’s already sure what she would order to appease the setting. As the waters are filled, Calum reaches over to take Eve’s hand. “You sure you’re okay with me crashing the shopping date on tomorrow?” Calum asks, thumb stroking over the top of her hand. 

Eve nods. “You just want to keep your little girl safe and I think it would be good for me to know the limits. For clothing. Clearly I’m not a good judge.”

“I try to give her some slack, you know. Soon she’ll be buying her own clothes without  Dad’s approval and I just want her to be responsible.”

“Yeah, eventually, she’ll be sneaking bags inside of bags,” Eve teases. 

“Do not give her any ideas, please.” Calum squeezes at her hand. “Thank you. For understanding. You did great, you know?”

“What-what do you mean?”

“With the blazer. I must admit I was prepared to be outnumbered. But when you offered an alternative I was pleasantly surprised.”

“I can’t overstep your rules, Calum.” 

“I know it matters to you that you aren’t overstepping. But still—I really appreciate you offering an alternative. You saw how much it mattered to Māra and you saw what mattered to me. Your negotiation skills are quite sharp.” 

Eve tries to keep the blush at bag. Her reaction only felt right. It only felt like the right thing to do. She didn’t think it was that spectacular. But her cheeks warm at the tenderness in Calum’s gaze. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you.” 

The conversation lulls just a little, but it feels normal. There’s no need to force conversation. Eve takes in the slight deflation of Calum’s cheeks. Where in his youth his cheeks had been full and rosy, as he’s aged they’ve fallen just a little. It’s nothing extremely noticeable in a fast glance. But Eve knows Calum who is thirty years younger. She catches the way age has graced his features. 

“You’re staring,” Calum teases, looking up to her from beneath his lashes. 

“You’re handsome,” Eve returns with ease.

The sentiment shouldn’t make Calum blush, but it does. The heat spread across his face. He’s sure his cheeks, if one could get close enough, are tinted just a little with the rush. Not red, but possibly a really faint pink and Calum laughs. “You sure do know how to make a man blush.”

“I know a lot of other things too.”

“Smooth,” Calum returns. “Criminal, because we are in public, and I was told I needed to behave.”

“I didn’t set any rules and expectations for myself. It’s a shame, really. Don’t you think?”

The taunting is cut short by their need to order. Calum orders for the both of them. It’s as the teases return that Calum finds himself reminded that this part is easy. The dating, talking about each other’s day, filling each other in on the happens since their last deep conversation is all easy. He is allowed to find comfort in the ease of their laughter. For the first time since he’d called Eve to come back into his life, Calum feels like this might’ve been the right choice all along. 

Back in the breeze of the night, they walk side by side, hand in hand. The evening is calm as it can be. There’s still the sounds of sirens, the honk of someone’s car in the distance. But it feels a bit easier to be out in public with Eve. Partially it’s because Calum knows there’s very few paps that still feel the need to follow his every move anymore. Not that there were many paps for a long stretch there, but their first run at a relationship was notably marked by photographers awaiting the perfect snap. Now his band and fame is an old flame. Which means as he directs the both of them to the ice cream place a few stores down, he doesn’t think long about if someone will recognize either him or Eve. 

“For someone so busy, you’re still finding time to keep your hair dyed,” Calum comments, taking in the emerald green ends. “I don’t think you got to green the last time.”

“I go through phases,” Eve returns, spoon digging at the sides of her bowl to get more sprinkles on her spoon. 

“Any color you want next?”

“Maybe blue again? Not sure. Depending on how this strips when I remove it, it might be mint green or yellow next.”

Calum nods, working the cherry from the stem with his tongue. “Used to say I would dye my gray hairs,” he offers. 

Eve catches there might be more behind the sentiment so she quirks her brow. “I don’t see any dye.”

“Never got around to it. Think I should start?”

“No,” she returns swiftly. “I don’t think you should.”

Calum laughs around the cherry he’s working down. When he’s mouth is free of the mashed fruit, he continues on, “Why’s that?”

Eve offers a tiny shrug. “Like I said, you’re handsome. Why would you need to hide getting older?”

“I mean, men aren’t told to care that much about their looks. But it’s not easy. I really thought I’d get out of California when I had kids. Town’s not good for ‘em. Everyone’s obsessed with the way they look. It’s not hard to start thinking maybe you need to care too.”

“A place like this can easily breed insecurities,” Eve agrees. Her spoon scrapes up the last dregs of her sundae. “It doesn’t seem like the town won out, though?”

Calum’s natural reaction is to laugh it off, but Eve’s eyes are narrowed in and assessing. He runs a hand through the hair, the curls wrapping around themselves before sitting back in the chair. “It’s hard with kids. They come first a lot of the times. Whatever’s going on with me just sort of defaults to not important enough. You notice it though. When the pants fit a little too tight or the hole you used to wear a belt on goes up by one or two, you notice. I used to think I’ll get to it. When things settle down, I’ll get back to where I was. I still go to the gym 4 times a week. I’m not sitting on my ass all day long. My knees would protest me if I did. But it hit me, ten years ago now, I think, there’s no going back. The body I had at eighteen, twenty, hell even thirty is long gone. I won’t ever be him again.”

Calum pauses, glancing out of the window they’re sitting next to. In the reflection due to the lights inside and lack of lights outside, Calum watches as Eve shuffles in closer, leaning onto the table. He doesn’t give into her silent invitation. “The pants just have to go at some point. They start taking up too much closet space. Sure the slight graying in the stubble or in my hair doesn’t really strike me initially. I’m too busy worried about the gut to worry about the hair. But then, I’m at the beach and there’s this guy older than me still cut and I think that’s the first moment where it sort of click for me. I really wasn’t going to get that body back and spending my time wishing for it doesn’t actually do anything about it. But what makes that man feel like he has to look like he’s still twenty five. I wasn’t even that cut at twenty five. I was toned. But then I look at what my body has always been and it becomes this thing. It’s always in the back of my mind. I’ve never had the washboard abs and I keep seeing everyone around me with them. These guys are half my age and I still want to win the body image race. I’m not going to. But I want to.”

Calum shakes his head for a moment, eyes finally drifting up to Eve’s. “This probably makes no sense.”

She shakes her head. “No, no, you can tell me. You can keep going.”

“It’s boring. Really. In the end I’m here. This is the only body I’m going to get so hating it feels like a waste of the very limited time I do have.”

“So no hair dye?”

Calum grins, head shaking again with a no. “Again, I could spend my time in a salon getting it dyed or I could get the grocery shopping done. I’m going to get the grocery shopping done. Easy choice. I could work out 5 times a week or I could have an extra hour in my day for a nap, or errands, or seeing my friends, or going on a date with you. I think I’m going to take that extra hour back in my day. I break it all down to choice: I could choose to keep spending time loathing and wallowing in self pity or I can do literally anything else on my to-do list. I try to eat healthy. I keep active. And I want to enjoy my life.”

“Damn, here I was thinking the only enjoyment in life was wallowing in self-pity,” Eve reclines back into her seat too now, fingers spinning her empty bowl around in circles. 

“Yeah, I’ll be the first to tell you there’s a lot more to be doing.”

“Like eating ice cream,” Eve offers. She gestures to Calum’s own cup that’s not quite finished. 

“Absolutely like eating ice cream.” Calum reaches back out for his cup and pulls it up to his chest. 

“It’s a problem I’d kill to have.” Eve says the sentence mostly to herself given the audience of the teen couples in the ice cream shop. A couple groups look like friends enjoying the cold sugary treat. But Eve keeps the confession quiet enough that she can almost watch the words fall from her lips into the empty cup beneath her as she sits up more in the seat. Though she’d learned that her predicament was not changing long ago, it doesn’t mean that she didn’t occasionally want something else.

“Guess we will always want what we can’t have,” Calum answers though there was no real question. Eve will always want to age and never have it. Calum will want to stay young and can’t have it. The two of them will always desire each other eternally and Calum is merely mortal. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to call desire a poison?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t call this desire one.”

Eve watches. Calum’s working down the scoop from his spoon. Is he referring to the desire between the two of them? Is he referring to the ice cream? Most often Eve could always read behind the words that Calum was giving. But given the way he’s hungrily scoping down the sugary treat, Eve’s not sure where Calum’s word lay. “Me or the ice cream?” she questions.

“Why not both?” Calum clarifies. “Why box me in?”

“I’d never do such a thing. But it was important to clarify.” She doesn’t bite back the smile. “Want another?”

Calum shakes his head. “What I want isn’t on the menu.”

Eve sighs at the taste of chocolate still sitting on Calum’s tongue when he laps into her mouth. The metal of the car presses into the bare skin of Eve’s back and the coldness cuts through the haze that’s descending. Though her fingers are digging at Calum’s waist, tugging him closer into her body and her hips widening to accept him, the cold metal keeps Eve grounded. They’re still in public. There’s a line that shouldn’t be crossed. But Eve wants nothing more than to crawl into Calum’s chest and never leave. The warmth of his touch sears her skin and she’s nearly forgotten how much her body was made for him. 

Calum’s moan is swallowed down by the wet smacking of Eve’s lips against his. His muscles ache with how much he’s demanding himself to keep his hands in appropriate places. But it’s tempting. He could so easily take one of her hips into his palms. He remembers how snug he can hold her flesh and it barely leaves a mark. He could take her ass into his hands, hoist her up onto his waist, rut up into her and she’d sigh. It all comes back exactly what Eve likes. Calum doesn’t do anything if that; he behaves. Calum moves one hand and only one to cup Eve’s neck. His fingers splay over her pulse point and he can find the erratic thump of her veins against his fingers. 

When he squeezes, just slightly, Eve drops her head back causing her lips to pull away from his. Calum grins against her mouth, hovering but never quite sealing around hers. Eve grins too, slipping her hands to press into the cut of Calum’s own hips, still above his jeans but dangerous enough that Calum knows what she’s hinting at. “Ah, there she is,” Calum teases. “Now, see if you had a place of your own, this next part would be much less complicated.”

Eve says nothing. Her throat is still cupped in Calum’s hold. Calum realizes now she has nothing to say because she’s digging into his chest pocket. His keys click as she brandishes them. “Trust me?”

Of course, Eve has connections. If Calum was ever to need something, Eve could somehow always get her hands on it. He’d stopped asking questions on how she managed to have such an ability but there is a certain level of trust he has to have with her. “I do,” Calum answers. 

Eve unlocks the car, free hand finding the door handle. As it clicks open and Eve steps forward, Calum lets his hands on her fall. “Sit back and relax,” she commands, holding the door open for Calum. 

He leans over the door to plant another kiss to her lips. As he slides into the passenger seat, Eve closes the door for him. She’s quick to jog around the front of the car. Her descent into the seat is a bit more graceful than Calum’s. She adjusts the seat up closer to the steering wheel with a chuckle. “God, I know you’re taller than me but how do you manage to sit so far back from the wheel?” Eve teases. 

“Not everyone has to drive up on the steering wheel like they’re driving Miss Daisy.” Foot on the brake, Eve pushes to start the ignition. Her hand comes up to swat at Calum’s arm but he captures it before it fully connects. His lips leave a trail of kisses before he place the limb near the gear shift. A sign for her to continue. 

The streets are smooth and Calum’s just barely keeping up the turns. He’s focused more on the way Eve seems to sit with ease. His legs continue to bounce the longer the drive goes. What if he’s not what Eve remembers him as? He had aged. Still in good shape, but he was not in the same shape that he had been half his life ago. His knees sometimes bother him. Many years of punk jumps will inevitably catch up on the body. Sure Calum had confessed in the ice cream shop that he was worried about his appearance. Yes, Calum still wants Eve sexually. But it’s hitting him as they wind through the streets that it might leave her dissatisfied. 

The car pulls to a stop, a hanging red light in front of them. The touch is light on his cheek and Calum turns into it. Eve’s thumb strokes his flesh slowly. “Don’t get lost up there,” she whispers. 

“I’m okay,” Calum states. He wants to believe it too. He needs to believe that he’s okay. 

“It’s okay if you’re not. But I need you to stay down here with me, okay?” Eve’s smile is sweet. 

Calum nods, throat seizing up on him just a little but he has enough air to respond, “Okay.”

The light turns green and Eve drops her hand to his knee before taking off. In another block, they pull into a parking lot of a hotel. Calum snorts, upon seeing the building. “There were cheaper motels much closer to my house.”

“Let me spoil you,” Eve sighs. They climb out of the car together. Eve waits at the back of the car, hand extended out. Calum takes it with ease. Eve’s strides are long enough to keep up with Calum’s. “Now, follow my lead. And don’t under any circumstances think that you should reach for your wallet at any point during the check in.”

“Eve I’m not going to let you--”

“Don’t,” she interrupts. “Lean a bit more into me, okay?” Eve slides her arm around his waist dropping the hold on her hand. Calum rests a tiny bit more of his weight into Eve’s frame. The door slides open and the lobby is incredibly cold. The rush of hair cuts through the two shirts Calum is wearing. Eve opted to drop his jacket off in the car between them finishing their food and going into the shop. Calum hadn’t even thought to grab it on the way out of the car. He realizes just how cold it is when Eve rubs her palm over her back. His fingers are digging into her shoulders. 

“Welcome to The Rosewood,” the girl at the front desk greets. “Do you two have a reservation already?”

“My husband and I have been driving through the night. He got tired driving and now so am I. Would you happen to have a room available? I am terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Eve starts. 

Calum’s grateful for the tiny bit of Eve’s warmth seeping into his clothes. He gives a tiny grin when the girl looks up at him and he realizes now--something else swirls in her irises. Like the purple swirls in Eve’s. 

“Your husband?” the girl repeats, slower and with something like surprise coloring the words. Calum can’t tell if she was expecting something to happen in the exchanged glances; had he given himself away as not one of them? 

“Second chances,” Eve returns, tightening her hold on his waist just a little. 

Did this girl already know about Calum? He’d never seen her before, not that he remembers at least. The joke Kiri made about Calum’s memory resurfaces. But now, Calum is sure after noticing the red swirling in her eyes that he’d remember that. He remembered Eve. 

The girl taps at her keyboard, mouse clicking several times before she turns to a machine--two keycards in her hand. Calum’s been at plenty of hotels to know that they should’ve asked how many beds, what size. But none of that was discussed. There’s no conversation about the per night charge. As the keys one at a time hover over the machine, it beeps to let the attendant know the cards have been magnetized and properly keyed for the right room. 

The girl smiles as she slides over both keys. “11th floor. 1125.”

Eve takes the cards from the counter. “Thank you.”

“Should we adjust the heat in the room for your guest?”

Eve nods. “Just a little.”

“Consider it done. Enjoy your stay, my liege.” 

Eve’s quick on her heel to guide Calum towards the elevators. But he glances back, noticing the girl speaking into a walkie. Enjoy your stay, my liege. The words echo around in Calum’s brain, so much so he doesn’t even catch the ding of the elevator. He walks in because Eve pulls him through. 

“What is this place?” Calum questions as the doors close. “Do you own this place?”

“It’s a hotel,” Eve replies. “Which services all people and some creatures as needed.”

“So she is?” He doesn’t really finish the question: So, she is a demon too? 

Eve nods. “Yes, she is. There’s covers all over the world. I opened them because I can’t answer every single call. I can’t keep tabs single handedly. But there are plenty of calls that are just not worth it. It’s all legitimate. You don’t need to worry about getting caught up, though.”

“But they know me?”

“They do. And they know you and your family are off limits. I have very little time for servers who think it’s fun to use humans as play things. They create problems. I vet rigorously and it only takes one offense with me. I have rules for a reason.”

Calum hears everything else that she doesn’t say. “Because you need people you trust when you’re with me.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to be worried no work is getting done. I don’t want to be worried that there’s trouble when I’m with you.” The elevator lurches to a stop and the doors slide open. 

Calum follows behind Eve this time. So Eve has hotel fronts--which are legitimate hotels. Calum assumes so because Eve says so and because as she starts down the hallway someone else draped in a robe shuffles down past them--ice bucket in hand. They smile as Calum and Eve pass, hardly interrupting the tune they’re whistling. No strange color swirls in their eyes. Not that Calum thinks anyone would just go out and about with that aspect constantly visible.

“Why don’t you stay here?” 

“It’s not like I need a place to sleep.” 

“But you’d have an actual room and bed here. Your stuff would be safer.”

Eve pauses at their door. 1125 stared back at Calum. It reminds him briefly of how close his and Cailean’s birthdays are. “Are you concerned about my things or are you concerned about me?”

“You,” Calum returns, turning her by her hips. “I am always concerned about you.”

“I’m safe, Calum.”

“But you would be safer here.”

“I can think of one other place I’m safer,” Eve whispers, pushing slightly up on her tiptoes. 

“Where’s that?” Calum whispers back. The door clicks open and Eve grins as she steps into the room backwards. It only takes one crook of her finger for Calum to follow. Whatever concerns had about her safety are overridden by desire. 

The room is warm--thankfully so. They only flicker on the bedside lamp. And Calum’s not really sure who turned it on. The only thing he can focus on is the way Eve tastes. He listens for every sigh she releases. He zeroes in on the way she clings to him. It makes his toes curl to still be desired. Calum’s overshirt is the first to go. Eve runs her fingers over his biceps, eyes focusing in on the ink. Some of it she’s always known was there. Other items are new. Her nails scratch lightly at the black ink. “You with me?” Calum whispers into her jaw. 

“Yes,” Eve exhales, chasing his lips down again. 

The kiss is broken by Calum’s one word response, “Good.”

Calum’s breath leaves him as Eve peels herself out of the top. She stands next to the edge of the bed, arms peeling out of the mesh sleeves. The top falls almost quietly onto the carpeted floor and Calum’s mouth salivates at the sight of her breasts. He grips her hips and tug. Eve laughs as she falls into him, catching herself by holding onto his shoulder. The warmth of his tongue over her nipples causes her to moan. She loves it. Loves the way that Calum whispers into his skin, So beautiful. So fucking beautiful. She’s not sure if Calum wants the words to mean something more, but she doesn’t have the brain to ask as he holds her tight. 

Her pants slide down next and Eve stands bare. 

“Oh my god,” Calum laughs, dragging a hand down over his face. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Hmm, almost,” Eve asks. She straddles his hips, fingers teasing at the pulled up hem of his undershirt. “Can I take this off you?”

It’s the question he knew was coming. He would have to eventually, right? That was the expectation for him. He would have to take his shirt off. 

“You don’t have to say yes,” Eve continues on when Calum’s eyes fall from her face. “We can stop here.”

Calum ties his arms around her waist, forearms griped into the hand of the other at her back. “I don’t want to stop here,” he starts. The rest of the words die on his tongue for a moment. “I don’t have the body I did all those years ago, okay?”

“You don’t have the body you did all those years ago,” Eve returns. “Can I let you in on a secret?”

Calum nods, eyes falling back to her face. “Of course.”

“I don’t expect you to. I don’t want you to. I want where Calum is now--thirty years later, three kids later, a whole life span later. I want you for where you are now. Can I have that? Where you are now?”

 Calum kisses her--there are no words in his throat to convey the relief that floods his body. He can do that. It’s where he is now and that’s all she wants. Calum can do that. He parts the kiss and sheds the undershirt. He feels more vulnerable her now, under the watchful gaze that Eve levels him with. But she smiles. “Lay back for me.”

Her hands are on his shoulders and Calum gives into the non-existence pressure, letting himself fall back into the mattress. Eve bends forward just a little, arms holding her weight up above Calum. “You’re handsome you know? So fucking handsome,” she adds before pressing a kiss to Calum’s clavicle. She traces down to his peck, then kisses the other side. Her kisses continue all across the expanse of his chest. She even goes so far as to tease one of his nipples. 

Calum grunts at the sensation, but the warmth of her mouth makes him feel like he’s going to float away. He loves it. “Thank you,” he exhales each time Eve breathes her praise into his skin.

She kisses over his stomach. Calum tries to retract whenever she takes a bite, laughing just a little at the antic. “You should’ve eaten more at the restaurant if you were this hungry,” Calum laughs. 

“Oh you’re more delicious.” 

Calum is softer in her hold. But she adores the way when she presses in and it’s still firm, but still soft too. It reminds her that Calum’s lived an entire life. One that he deserved to have. He deserves to be happy. He deserves to be fulfilled in his life, in all the ways that he wanted. Eve can feel her own arousal leaking from her as she takes in the sight of Calum beneath her. Calum’s hands run lazily over her thighs. 

“Your jeans are going to be ruined,” Eve warns. 

Calum traces the line of her stomach down and reaches between her legs. Her slick drips down on his fingers. “It’s a good thing they can be washed.”

Eve tries to keep her composure. But Calum teases her clit with the tips of his fingers, slow circles and it punches her gut. She clenches around nothing knowing what will come next. Calum watches the way her breathing picks up, becomes heavier and quicker above him. He continues on, small small circles. “Please,” she whispers. 

“Please what, love?”

Eve takes his wrist and moves his hand back a little. His fingers now just below her opening. “Are you really going to make me beg?”

Calum pushes up to one elbow. He traces her opening and her grip loosens. “Maybe.”

“Calum,” she exhales. “Please.”

Calum brings one finger up and when it slides in easily, he thinks twice and then removes it, before slipping two digits inside. Eve falls forward just a little, a yelp scratching over her throat. Her hips grind down before she can stop herself. Calum relaxes back down into the mattress grinning at Eve sighs. He takes her left hip into his free hand, guiding her back up. 

She tastes heavenly. Calum hums around the two digits in his mouth. Though he can see the disappointment on her face, Eve doesn’t utter anything. She just watches Calum, pupils blown almost fully. “Come here,” Calum huffs out, pulling at her knees. Eve goes, crawling on her hands and knees up Calum’s body. 

He pulls her down onto his mouth, arms hooking around her legs to hold her in place. The first swipe of his tongue earns him a content hum. Like Eve’s been waiting desperately for this and Calum realizes the only thing he cares about right now is that sound. Swipe after swipe, Calum works her so she sighs and moans above him. 

Eve cards her fingers through his hair, legs tensing a little beneath her. The orgasm is fast approaching. It starts deep from the pit of her stomach, spreading like fire throughout her chest and limbs. The work of Calum’s tongue has her hanging between her earthly surroundings and pure ecstasy. She feels the steady march of her release shaking her core and she can only find it within herself to grind down on Calum’s face. “Shit,” she whispers. “Cal. I’m--”

The words die. She can’t get them out, not with how deep her orgasm comes from her gut. Her jaw goes slack and though a scream should fall from her lips, she is silent. Her grip tightens in Calum’s hair and he knows. Her spasms are erratic and her legs are quivering. Calum knows she’s coming undone and a little bit of pride sparks in his chest. He’s still got it. He can still make Eve buckle like this. For the moment by doubts are quieted. 

Though Eve’s still blinking back to the surface from her own post orgasm haze, she shimmies back down Calum’s body, placing kisses as she goes. She gets one hand onto the buckle of his belt and then pauses. “May I?”

It only takes a nod. Eve’s work is quick as she undoes the buckle. Her fingers are deft on the button and zipper. Eve works his pants down, underwear in her grasp too, and Calum exhales when she kisses his shaft. Her laughter is soft before she continues on, disrobing him completely. Calum’s trying to keep himself grounded. But Eve’s touch keeps taking him away. Her lips are soft around his length. She holds his hips down with her palms and Calum’s sure his whole lead is going to float off.

Not that Calum thinks he wants his head back back if it does fall off his shoulders. He wants nothing back if Eve took it. And God, is she taking everything as she grasps the base of his cock with one hand and her lips wrapping around the rest. There’s no hesitation as she takes him down her throat. Even behind the dark of his closed eyelids, Calum feels everything. If this is what it means to be a goner, Calum never wants to be found. 

“One sec-” Calum huffs, the strong tug of Eve’s hand at his length cutting off his words. Now, he’s laying between her legs, a slow shift from the blow job she’d started to the top of the bed. They both know where they are headed and Eve is the more impatient one of the two of them currently. She pouts when Calum breaks the kiss. “One second,” he whispers, pulling away from Eve. 

She lets her arms fall from around his neck and watches as he shuffles back to the edge of the bed, moving from between her legs which they’d been in for what feels like hours. There’s something more wildly intimate about sharing breaths and reverent kisses than engaging in anything else. There’s something more intimate just being close to someone that Calum hadn’t had in a long time he wants to experience the most. Sex is great, but when Eve kisses at his neck gently and when she laughs Calum feels like he’s never lost anything. He feels a little bit more complete. Calum finds his pants again, rooting into the front pocket. 

“What are you looking for?”

Calum holds up the tiny foil packet, brows furrowing as he looks back at Eve. He’d gotten a vasectomy after Māra’s birth, about a year later he’d figured. But Calum is nothing if not cautious. Nothing was fully preventative and though he loves his kids he is well past the diaper phases with all of them. He has zero desire to return to that. Eve grins, her laughter shaking her shoulders. They hold each other’s gaze for one moment, then two. Calum’s gaze breaks first, brows shooting up on his face. His own amusement paints his face. “You--that’s right!”

“Unless you feel more comfortable with a condom, of course. I haven’t had any other partners in a while.”

“Like what—what’s a while for you? six months?” Calum guesses. “You don’t have to spare my feelings, you know?”

“Like try a year and a half, maybe two,” Eve laughs. 

“Babe,” Calum coos. “A year and a half?”

“It didn’t kill me. Don’t pity me.”

Calum settles back onto the bed, motioning for her to come to him. Eve slides over and sits next to him, legs tucked under herself. “It’s not pity, Eve. The condom--it's a habit. And I never expected you to be out here celibate forever. It’s just--a year and a half? What were you waiting on?”

“You.”

“If that’s just a line, it’s a damn good one.”

Eve tips Calum’s chin up and her grip tightens on the bone. “It is not, nor will it ever be a line.” Calum knows that look ne tone. Every word is serious. Every syllable is truth. “Now bring you and your condom over here, please.”

“With pleasure,” Calum exhales. 

Calum thinks for a moment he’s not going to make it long. He hadn’t lost all his stamina, but Eve pulses around him in a way that makes him worried about how long it’s been since the last time he was with someone that he’s going to come embarrassingly quick. There wouldn’t be any judgment, but the fear prickles up just a little for Calum as his hips snap against hers. He’s able to quiet it mostly he zeros in on Eve. He gets to watch her face contort and he gets to listen to every praise all because of him. And that’s all because of him. He’s making Eve feel that good. 

Any fear he might’ve had is almost instantly squashed by the way Eve clings to him. How can he be worried about anything else when she’s begging for him? How can he doubt anything when Eve’s babbling beneath him? It’s incoherent and Calum knows it’s all because of him. There’s no higher higher than listening to Eve beg on his cock. 

Except for when Eve can see the slight falter and if it’s because of how close he is or because of the exertion catching up, Eve doesn’t question it. She just gets a tighter grip on Calum, plants one foot down onto the mattress and pushes up. Calum holds onto her waist and lets her take him down. “Let me,” she whispers into his ear. “Let me do the hard work now.”

Calum can only nod. The prickle of fear comes back and he nearly curses his body for getting older. He can’t fully form the thought because Eve pushes back up from his chest and sinks back down onto his length in one fluid motion. Calum can only see stars. Perhaps, this is the higher high. Eve’s bounce is intoxicating, a deliciously methodical pace that doesn't feel overwhelming though the pressure is slowly and steadily building in Calum’s gut. He hears her laughs and it doesn’t feel malicious. “Look at you,” she coos. “Tell me, how does it feel?”

Calum’s mouth gapes, he wants to say it feels so good. But the words catch as she gives a particularly firm push back down. “So fucking good,” he squeaks out, taking her hips into his hands. 

“Bet it does,” Eve exhales. Her breathing is coming out more labored, bordering on a pant, but she doesn’t relent. 

Calum’s tells are still the same, Eve notices. His nose scrunches up first and then his fingers dig into the meat of her thighs. He’s getting closer. “Fuck,” he grunts. “Just like that, Eve. Please.”

“Have no plans otherwise,” she laughs. 

His jaw falls slack and his orgasm rips through. All he can get is a groan, maybe it borders a scream, as his body convulses. Eve follows behind him, taking one of her hands which has been bracing her up on Calum’s chest to her clit. Her orgasm hits fast and hard. An actual scream leaves Eve’s lips. It’s Calum’s name and he swears the sound might be the end of him. It sounds so heavenly to hear something so visceral. 

By the time Calum and Eve return to the house, the downstairs is empty. It’s a good thing because Calum’s black jeans clearly spot the stain of Eve’s arousal. Not a conversation he is looking to have if he can avoid it. Calum can hear the kids upstairs--Cailean is laughing as Māra’s voice falls down the stairs. “Get out!” she screeches. 

“It’s past your bedtime, kiddo. Gotta see you off since Dad’s out.”

“No, you just want to be an ass,” Māra huffs. “Get out, Cai.”

“For the love of all things holy, the two of you need to quit it,” Kiri’s voice finally enters the mix. Calum and Eve use the spat as cover to get to the guest room downstairs. Calum closes the door softly behind them. They’re quick to shower--specifically together-- and change out of the date clothes. 

“I’m going to make sure no one is actually dead, then I’ll be right back,” Calum details, kissing Eve’s forehead from where it pokes out beneath the sheets. The squabble sounds rectified, but he wants to make sure it was nothing serious. 

“Need back up?”

“Don’t think so, but if I do, you’ll know.” 

Calum carries himself up the steps. He can see Kiri’s door is cracked at the end of the hallway, the light bleeds into the hallway. As he reaches the top of the stairs, he catches the light underneath the doors from Cailean’s room and Māra’s room. He knocks on Kiri’s door first, bypassing the younger two for the moment. 

“Yeah?” Kiri calls, spinning in his chair. He spots Calum and then smiles. “Hey, Pops. How was the date?”

“Good--enjoyed some ice cream as a nice touch.”

Kiri laughs, pointing at his own neck to let Calum know of the visible bruises. “Looks like really good ice cream.”

“Hey, hey, you’ve come back from a party or two in worse wear.”

Kiri nods, knowing of his own escapades. He holds up his hands as surrender. “No grandkids. No doctor trips, like my old man taught me.”

“Are you still seeing her? You haven’t mentioned Bryanna in a while.”

Kiri shakes his head. Calum’s not sure if he’s imagining the shift, but Kiri looks away as he speaks, “No. She, uh, she and I didn’t work out.”

Calum can tell there’s more to the story than just what Kiri gives. But Kiri isn’t the type to be fully outright. He cracks, but Calum knows he can’t outright ask what’s wrong. He just needs to crack open the door. Then Kiri will do the rest.  “You know where to find me if you want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, though I think I will have to text you before I think of going downstairs. Don’t need to hear anything either.”

Calum laughs, pressing into the door molding. It presses a little into the nail marks that he noticed his shower earlier. But it’s not a bad pain. “The last thing I want to do is scar my kids so don’t worry. Anything I need to know about with those two? Besides the argument I heard when I walked in the door.”

Kiri shakes his head, pushing up from his chair. He’s the same height as Calum when they’re next to each other. But Kiri looked so much like Calum’s own mother that it shocks Calum how much he does see Kelsie in his face too. It’s the sharp eyes that he got from Kelsie that Calum sees the most. Everything else is Calum. “Nah, it was just loud--what you heard. Nothing serious.” 

Calum nods at the return. Though this feels like a moment where he might be able to walk away, Calum stays. All Calum has to do is crack open the door. Kiri will take the inch. Kiri finally speaks again for a few moments of silence. “Are-are you happy with Eve, Pops?”

Calum exhales. He hadn’t expected Kiri to worry so much about him, nor did Calum think this would be the door Kiri would open. “Kiri, I know you care. But that’s not your job.”

“It’s not. I know. I just--are you happy with Eve?”

“I’m--I like being with Eve. I’m not happy because of her. I am happier around her though. There’s, uh, there’s a lot that I still have to deal with surrounding Kelsie’s death. I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. Yeah, I’m happy where Eve and I are. I like spending time with her. But that does not mean I’ve forgotten your mother.”

“No, no, it’s not that. I know you haven’t forgotten Mom. I’m asking because you seem happier when she’s around. Even if you two did have that small spat.”

“You-you heard that?” Calum rubs a hand over his stubbly chin. Not one of his proudest moments. “I’m sorry, son.”

“I’ve heard you and mom fight too. It’s nothing new. I asked because I wanted to say that I’m glad you’re happy, you know? We worried. I’d hear you sometimes at night when Mom first passed. And I knew I couldn’t do anything, you now. I was crying too. But, it’s just, it’s insane to think that a year ago we were all thinking we’d never get through it. And now, we-we are. We’re getting through it.”

“It’s all time, Ki. It’s all time.”

Kiri nods. It was all time. In more time they’d be even further along too.  Though, Kiri’s current predicament seemed like time would never give him what he wanted. “Brynna and I didn’t work out because I refused sex a couple of times.”

There is it--the mile Kiri would take if Calum gave an inch. Calum crosses the threshold into Kiri’s room, closing the door softly behind him. His heart pounds in his chest. Was this going to turn into a story of Kiri giving in just to appease someone? Was it going to turn out much worse? For a moment, Calum’s vision shakes, but he inhales deeply and settles in the desk chair Kiri had originally vacated while Kiri settles onto the bed. “Are you okay, Kiri?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay now. And I didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. But I don’t know. It all still sort of feels weird I guess.”

“Weird how?”

“I-The first time it happened we’d been drinking.” It’s not lost on Calum just how young Kiri is. Yes, it’s underage. But the thing that Calum is more focused on is that if Kiri’s going to make those choices he knows the consequences. He prefers if he’s honest that Kiri drinks at home. But he knows it won’t happen. Kelsie didn’t like the drinking at all and the first time he turned up home drunk Calum had been the one to get him to his room and leave water for him in the morning. Kelsie, much like Calum, understood the kids would make choices they didn’t always love, but they never wanted to make their kids feel bad for choices. Sometimes natural consequences were enough. 

Kiri finally works the lump down in his throat to continue on. “I wasn’t drunk. But I wasn’t sober. Brynna was worse than me so when she initiated it, I sort of squashed it. Played up I was drunker than I was and when I told her we probably shouldn’t, she seemed a little hurt at first. But the party continued on and it was just a struggle to get her back to her dorm room. But she passed out the second she got into her bed. It never seemed to come back up again.”

Calum nods, to let Kiri know he’s still listening. “Take your time,” he offers soft watching Kiri blink away some tears. 

“But the second time, she and I were here. Studying. And I know not a lot of studying was happening. We were getting a little handsy. Kissing was fine, but I just didn’t want sex. Nothing against her. But I’d been on edge after getting my second exam back in Calculus, that D.”

Calum offers another nod. He remembers how Kiri had stomped into the house and gone directly to his room. It took until dinner for Kiri to be calm enough to express his struggles with the course. They sat down that night to figure out how to book Kiri a tutor through the university. But they got it and now he’s getting by with a B-. It may just barely be a B minus, but it’s better than the D+ he’d been at. 

“I don’t know. Like it was a distraction, I guess when Brynna first approached me. And I sort of gave in because I wanted to at first. But when I’d back out of the gate and go back to work, she’d kiss at my neck again a few minutes later. After the second time of me sort of softly rejecting her, she tried a third time and I just had to flat out tell her I didn’t want more right then. She got offended. She accused me of cheating. I tried to tell her that I wasn’t cheating. And I swear I wasn’t Pops. Then she said that me rejecting her made her feel unwanted and like she wasn’t attractive. And I don’t know. Everything I said was wrong. If I tried to tell her I did find her attractive, then she’d ask why I didn’t want sex. And I just didn’t, you know? I just didn’t want it right then. But it all got out of hand. She started screaming at me. I--it got to the point where I told her I’d take her back to campus but I wasn’t going to be screamed at and accused of things that weren’t true. I wanted to talk it out and I offered to like give her some space so we could talk it through. But it never de-escalated.”

Calum can see the tears falling and he reaches out, a hand on Kiri’s knee. It’s not the story he thought he’d get--part of Calum is relieved to hear that his worst nightmare was not recognized. But it’s not easy. It never is. “Look at me, Kiri.”

Kiri sniffles hard before he brings his head up to look his father in his face. “I don’t know what I did wrong. It sucks.”

“It does suck. I’m sure you know I can’t tell you what you did right or wrong. I wasn’t there. But I can tell you that you offering to talk about it after Brynna calmed down is a better move than I could’ve given at your age.”

“She eventually ordered a ride back to school even though I offered to drive her. She did text me that she got back safely after I asked her too. But when I tried to text her the next day to see if she was in an okay spot to talk, she just told me that she wanted her ring back.”

“Did she ever talk to you?”

Kiri shakes his head no. “Thanks,” he returns when Calum hands him a few tissues from the box he keeps on his desk. 

“It’s okay to refuse sex when you don’t want it. I know it might fly in the face of everything you might’ve seen in movies, or heard from your friends. But you can say no. People have to respect it when you make that decision. If they don’t, that’s a them problem. You let her know you didn’t want it. It’s really up to her to respect that decision. If she can’t, then the only thing I want you to worry about is keeping yourself safe, you hear me?”

Kiri nods. “I mean, it’s not like I’m a woman, you know.” It’s easy to hear what Kiri’s is implying. He won’t have the same experience as Māra. 

Calum scoots to the edge of the chair, taking Kiri by the back of his neck. They’re foreheads press together. Calum can feel his own tears more now, as they slip down his cheeks. “You may not feel threatened in the same way women do. But it’s still important that you are safe. Your safety is still important.”

Kiri nods, as much as he can, given Calum’s grip. “I know, Dad.”

“I’m glad you stood your ground. I’m so fucking glad she just left and nothing else worse happened. I’m sorry she yelled. I’m sorry she accused you of that shit. But I need you to remember: your job is always to come back safe to me. You got that?”

“Yeah.” Even as the affirmative leaves Kiri’s mouth, his chest feels a little lighter. It doesn’t feel like so much is pressing at his shoulders and neck. He is safe. It does suck what Brynna did and never let Kiri really explain further. Given that she didn’t look at him anymore in classes, he wouldn’t ever get the chance to explain anymore. 

“Come here,” Calum whispers, moving to embrace Kiri in a tight hug. “You’re safe,” he chants. It’s more for Calum than it is for Kiri. Kiri is safe. He’d stood his ground. Brynna had left. “You’re safe.”

When Kiri’s hold loosen, Calum lets him go. Kiri confirms that he’s okay and slowly, Calum steps out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Eve’s right at the top of the stairs, eyes quietly assessing the redness in Calum’s eyes. His cheeks are wet and he’s sniffling. His chest heaves and she knows something has happened. But she doesn’t say anything before ducking into the bathroom next to Kiri’s room to grab toilet paper. Thankfully she knows it’s a bathroom due to the open door. She hands the wad over to Calum, one hand rubbing at his back. “Came up because I got worried. You okay?”

Calum tucks his head into her neck. He inhales the scent of her body wash. It’s hard for the panic to fully settle when he’s counting how long to hold his breath before he exhales. Eve just holds Calum in silence, keeping her palm a steady slip over his back. When his breathing regulates enough, Calum pulls away. “Sorry.”

“No, no need to be sorry. Do you need anything?”

Calum clears his throat, hands settling now on her hips. “Just need a minute. Still need to check on Cai and Mar.”

Eve gives another nod, eyes assessing Calum’s face. So it’s something with Kiri. Eve doesn’t press. She only nods when Calum glances up at the ceiling. He gives another slightly more steady exhale before taking a step away. “Are my eyes red?”

“Just-just a little. Are there eye drops up here?” Eve turns a little, eyeing the bathroom she’d exited. 

“Master bathroom does, I know. But it’s alright if they’re not super red.”

Eve shakes her head, turning back to Calum. “No, they’re not super red. Could pass for tiredness.”

“It’s all I need.” Calum squeezes at her hips and Eve slips a step back, as if she’d planned to go to the stairs again, but once Calum knocks and pokes his head into Māra’s, Eve tries to assess where the master bedroom might be so she can get to the connecting bathroom. The doors all look the same. She could guess but then if she’s wrong it’s obvious.

“Love you,” Calum returns as he shuts the door. He continues on to Cai’s room, knocking before he catches the affirmative call from behind the door to poke his head inside. Eve settles that maybe she won’t have enough time to find the master bedroom before he’s done. So she waits, near the stairs to hopefully avoid being detected. Though she knows if any of the kids open their door, she will be spotted. 

“Alright, kid, let’s behave, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Love you,” Cailean laughs, his voice carrying from behind the door. 

“Love you too.”

Eve takes a couple steps closer as Calum closes the door. Once it’s fully shut, she fully crosses the way to him. Calum slips his arm around her shoulders as she presses into his side. “Want to talk about it?” she asks, threading his fingers through hers.

Calum just nods for the stairs and they take them, rounding the corner to the back hallway and only stop once they’re in the bedroom. Calum tries to keep it brief in his retelling. He knows he maybe shouldn’t be even telling Kiri’s business. But he can still feel the shaking of his hands. Calum can still feel the initial anger coursing through his veins. The thing Calum feels most of all though is a sting in his chest. He wishes he could’ve been there more for his son. The truth is Calum didn’t know before now.  

Kiri never said anything until now. He spent so much time on the campus that it was hard to get Kiri for longer than he wanted to be around. Had Calum failed Kiri by not being more firm on making it home for family dinners more often? Had this been festering for as long as it had--which had been weeks, maybe two months now. Kiri came home angry about the second exam about halfway through the semester. In another four or so weeks, the semester would be ending. It wasn’t Calum’s fault for what happened but were there signs Calum had missed?

Eve brings his head into her chest. “Hey, hey, I know that look. Baby, you didn’t know. Kiri’s growing up. He’s not going to tell you everything all the time. He’s going to take some things and do whatever he can to handle it on his own. You and Kelsie raised him to be a competent young man. He can handle a lot. More than you’ve seen him handle probably. When he can’t handle it, that’s when he comes to you. When he’s stumped, he knows you’re there.”

Calum nods, because it’s true. That’s the whole point of children growing up. Kelsie and Calum wanted their kids to get to this point. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “He used to come to us about everything. When he struggled with tying his shoes, he used to ask me to help. When he needed help with homework, he’d come to me.”

“He was supposed to go to you for those things,” Eve returns. “And he still does. He still comes to you. He did it tonight.” She’s not sure if these words are comforting or if she’s adding more fuel to the fire. “He still comes to you for help. It just looks different now.”

It does look different now. It will look different in another nineteen years too. Calum tightens the hold on Eve’s t-shirt. He knows she’s got plenty of business to attend to. She’d mentioned it earlier before they left for dinner. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?” Calum asks softly. 

“Yes.”

“Will you be here when I wake up?” It feels silly to ask. Eve might not be able to promise that. But Calum needs reassurance. He’s afraid if he wakes and she’s not here, he’s going to unravel.

“Yes,” Eve returns again. “Yes, I will be here when you wake up.” Those words make it so much easier to contemplate sleep for Calum. 

Calum catches the beeping of his alarm and he sighs. There will be little light when he cracks open his eyes. It won’t rise for another hour and a half. Something closes softly, even though Calum’s alarm is going, when the sound cuts down for a moment he catches the close. “Eve?” he asks quietly in the dark. 

“It’s me.” Her voice floats back over the wail of the alarm. 

Calum pushes up and turns the noise off. The bed dips a little behind him. He switches on the bedside lamp. There is the soft yellow haze as he turns, Eve fills out in front of him. Her horns--which Calum can’t help but recall the night her halo crumbled to reveal the horns-- are still protruding but clearly being retracted and hidden away. Calum strokes her jaw. “You don’t have to hide here.”

Eve closes the distance to press a kiss to his lips. “I like to keep up appearances,” she states against her lips. “You still okay for shopping today?”

“Dad’s gotta do what dad’s have to do,” Calum nods. 

“Want me to handle breakfast then? Is today a workout day?”

“It is. But you don’t have to, Eve.”

The nails are sharp against his jaw, but Eve’s touch is gentle. “Give me one thing on your plate today.” It is not a plea. It is a command. 

“Breakfast,” Calum concedes. “If you don’t mind.”

“Give me the rundown, boss.” As Calum pushes out of the bed, grabbing his workout clothes he talks through all the normal things he fixes for breakfast. Eve nods, peeling herself out the robes and slipping into one of Calum’s t-shirts. She leaves the leggings on. Her shoes have been toed off already. 

“Cailean’s going to wake first. He showers and then does god know what in his room. Kiri wakes second. He’s a night showerer. So he’ll probably get downstairs first and be the first one of the door. Māra wakes last, takes the longest to get ready. But she’ll be down stairs before 7:25 to scarf down her oatmeal. Cailean’s driving Māra and himself to school now with his license so even if I’m not back, which I will be, but should I not, they’ll still get to school on time.”

Eve nods. “Oatmeal, banana, and orange for Cailean and Mar. Kiri will take whatever. What about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you have?”

Calum grins. “I eat a little bit of oatmeal and usually some yogurt.”

“Won’t do,” Eve insists. 

“I have survived on it this far.” Calum kisses her forehead after tying up his running shoes. Eve walks with him to the front door, after Calum gets something quick down before his workout. 

At the crack of the door, Eve tugs Calum back by his waistband. He gives into the tug and she stretches to kiss him. The horizon is still dark, but it’s got a blue underhue that lets them all know dawn is coming. “Have a good run,” she wishes. 

She has a little bit of time. It’s just barely five. Though she knows for her plan she can’t wait too long. So when the minutes tick over to about 5:45 she pushes from the bed. Her phone buzzes. Eve answers the call, listening to the rough breathing crackling through the phone. “Finished.”

Eve rattles off a set of coordinates to the voice on the other end of the phone. “Confirm the amount,” she commands after a minute of silence. 

“550.”

“Wait for my call for the other half, waiting to confirm cleanliness.”

“Understood,” the voice heaves out. The phone call ends. Eve places her phone back onto the counter, giving the eggs one last flip. 

“Morning,” Kiri says. His voice is a little hoarse but his smile seems mostly genuine as he takes in Eve’s appearance in the kitchen. 

“Morning.” Eve sets a plate down at the bar counter. “That’s for you.” 

Eggs and toast stare back up at Kiri. Then another bowl settles down--a melody of strawberries, blueberries and what looks like sliced mango. The glass clinks against the coaster--orange juice he realizes. “Thanks, Eve. You-I could’ve gotten all this.”

The front door cracks open, Calum’s voice floats up gently from the front. “Eve?”

“Kitchen,” she calls out. Then to Kiri, she adds, “I was fixing myself something and heard you upstairs.” An easy life. 

“Thank you,” he returns. There is a plate which holds a similar assortment so it looks true enough. When Calum rounds the corner into the kitchen, he pats Kiri on the shoulder. The two men give a nod to each other before Calum carries on and kisses Eve’s forehead. She lifts the other plate and hands it over to Calum. 

“Good run?”

He nods. Though he’s sure the sweat is clearly still dripping down his face. “Thank you,” he motions with the plate up and then settles down next to Kiri. His bowl of fruit and orange comes next and Kiri frowns a little. There are dishes that are in the sink. Perhaps Eve really did already eat. 

“Of course, babe.” Eve turns back to the stove, pulling down the packets of oatmeal. The floors above them croak. By the time Calum finishes the dishes that are in the sink after his own breakfast, Cailean’s surfacing downstairs. 

“Good morning,” he states. Not with a lot of usual Cailean bravado. Eve starts to deduce that he may not be a morning person like Kiri, but has had to adjust because he’s taken up driving him and Māra to school. Calum slips out of the kitchen to take his own shower. 

“Burning the midnight oil?” Eve teases, setting a bowl of oatmeal and a banana on the placemat. 

“My brain is not awake enough to even understand what that means,” Cailean returns. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Cailean.”

He’s quiet as he eats and Eve tries to listen for Māra. She can’t quite separate out Calum’s shower from what might be running upstairs. So she glances at the clock on the oven. 7:10. Probably a good time to start Māra’s breakfast. Eve does worry for a moment that she might finish it too quickly so she slows everything down just a little. Calum returns to the kitchen and Cailean’s still there, backpack at his feet but there’s no Māra. He spins with a sigh and just as his mouth opens, Mar comes down the steps. 

“Saved by the bell,” Calum grins. “Sleep good?”

She nods. “Sorry, sorry. I couldn’t decide on what shoes to wear since we are going shopping early. Didn’t want anything that would make my feet hurt.”

“Mar, I keep telling you that you need more cushion in your shoes because of your flat feet.”

“But those aren’t cute,” she protests, giving him a hug. 

“You’ll get it when you’re older,” he laughs, kissing the top of her head. She scurries into the kitchen, knowing she’s only got a few minutes to spare. 

“Good morning, Māra,” Eve states. Calum goes back to the sink, realizing more dishes have piled up. 

“Hi, Eve. Thanks for breakfast.”

“Of course.”

It’s strange as the house falls silent. Kiri left while Calum was taking his shower, but he did say his goodbyes to the house before his departure. Cailean and Māra have long left. The dishes are done. Calum stops Eve on her way back to the room. She falls into his chest with ease. “Thank you for helping today, baby.”

“Of course, Cal. I’m happy to help. What time is Māra’s dentist appointment?”

“1:30. I’m picking her up during her lunch time, 12:45.”

“When are you leaving the studio then?”

Calum shakes his head. “Not going today. Will be going in a little tomorrow, four hours max.”

“So what are you planning to do for the next 4 hours?”

“You tell me,” Calum whispers into her neck. 

Eve giggles at the scratch of his stubble. “Something tells me you have plenty of ideas.”

Speak of the devil. Calum waits for a moment longer and then another message pops up. It’s a screenshot of a text conversation and he taps on it, bringing this glasses down from the top of his head. He’d forgone his contacts as he was running low on time. As much as he didn’t want to leave the bed with Eve, she’d forced him up so he could get Māra on time and be on time to the appointment. Māra made it through another dental appointment with a clean bill of health and now he sits outside of the dressing rooms at the place Eve mentioned yesterday. She and Māra have been rummaging through racks for a solid twenty minutes and Calum opted to linger back as to not intrude too much. 

After he approved her try on stack--a few of them just barely passing Calum’s initial check--Eve and Māra scurried to the fitting rooms. Eve agreed to be the first line of defense, knowing that she might be able to talk Māra down from any ledges before having to face Calum. Now Calum is here, pulling his glasses down to read the screenshots better that Kiri sent to him. At the top he can see Brynna’s name. The last text exchange was brief. 

Kiri asked if she got back to the dorms safely. Brynna replied with a short, yes. When Kiri asked the next day--this text more clearly dated for September 15th to the current start of December, can we talk soon? i’d like to understand what made you so mad about me saying no, he received only two sentences: i’d like my ring back. meet before calculus. 

But the latest message is from Brynna. Calum can tell from the date and it being in a gray bubble. sorry about the way i acted. you didn’t deserve that. There’s no real explanation about why Brynna acted the way she did. But perhaps the apology would be what Kiri needed to move on. Calum taps into the box to reply. 

How do you feel about the apology? he asks. 

i guess i’m relieved. at least she apologized? don’t know really. 

Calum sighs as his fingers work over the keys. Is it because you still want to know why?

yeah, like, she apologized and i appreciate that. but it still doesn’t tell me why she freaked.

Calum taps the corner of the device to his forehead. He’s not sure what to say. Kiri would never really know why. It appears as if Brynna had enough change of heart to apologize for her actions, but not even to reveal what it was that made her so insecure about Kiri’s refusals. This is one of those hard lessons, Calum’s realizing, that he was telling Eve about. Kiri was going to have to learn to accept the fact that he would never know why. He’d only heal and be able to move on once he accepted that sometimes shitty things happen to good people. Sometimes they reason is never known. 

“Thoughts?”

Calum snaps his his head up, taking in the sight of Māra in the red studded sleeves blazer that Eve mentioned earlier. It’s longer than he imagined it to be, but it fits well. “I like it,” he smiles. “Goes well with those earrings you just got.”

“Yeah, the black leather tassel ones. I see the vision,” Māra smiles. “Okay, next top,” she commands and Eve starts to step away but notices the falter of Calum’s smile. 

“You okay?”

“Later, if that’s okay. It’s about what I told you last night. With Kiri.”

Eve nods. “Of course. Later. You need anything though in the meantime?”

“No, I’m good. Now you should go, Mar’s not going to wait too long.”

Eve grins. “We had to axe a few tops before the blazer. I’m crossing my fingers the sweaters are a hit.”

“May God be with you,” he laughs and Eve signs the cross before heading back. 

Calum stares down at the messages with Kiri. I’m sorry she didn’t explain, son. Do you want to talk more when you get home?

yeah, i’d appreciate it, pops. thx. 

Anytime, Kiri. 

Māra proudly displays off a knitted turtleneck in yellow with a black and white gingham pattern on the front, jeans with barbed wire design up the entire body of them, and a black dress with ferns printed onto the design. Calum approves of all of them. The dress is full length to counterbalance his concerns about the spaghetti straps. Eve and Māra both defend that she can wear a long sleeve shirt under the dress to keep it more appropriate for winter and more modest. Māra is a fan of layering, as Calum notices. So he accepts the dress into his arms before they head to the register. Before he can get his cards out, though, Eve slips the bills to the cashier. 

“I had it,” Calum laughs. 

“Think of this as me pre-warning you about the grocery bill this week. Perhaps better to save the cash for that”

Calum can only grin. “What damage’s been done now?”

“Eggs,” Eve laughs. “So many eggs.” She takes the change back and Māra slips in to take the bag with a brilliant smile up to the cashier. Calum and Māra head back up to the foodcourt, considering Māra hadn’t gotten her lunch and was much too eager to the mall to think about food. Once Eve seems them to a table, she kisses Calum on the cheek. “Going to make a quick run to a store while you two eat.”

“Oh, where?” Māra questions. 

“It’s just the Vitamin Shoppe,” Eve counters. “Bit boring, so I figured you two wouldn’t want to waste the time.”

Calum nods at the comment. “Be safe,” he whispers up to Eve. 

“I always am.” He watches her though. Eve would have no reason for the vitamin store. However, she doesn’t turn to round the corner to make to the shop. She continues straight on behind Māra into one of the lingerie stores. Calum quickly looks back down to his tray. Oh, he knows the vitamins are code for. In all honesty, lingerie that was lace and delicate didn’t hold a candle much to the plain looking stuff. He’s garnered respect for simple and chic rather than the buckles and zippers. 

But he won’t complain in the least about what Eve gets. He will not complain in the slightest. He works down a forkful of the coleslaw he ordered as his side before slipping his phone out from his jacket pocket. He swipes until he finds the text message thread with Eve. Lingerie is a hell of a vitamin. 

It sits for about two minutes before Eve responds. Well, you know what the say. A chain and a whip a day keeps the doctor way. 

Calum snorts at the joke and then puts his phone back. Māra and he finish up just as Eve slips out from the store. The bag is a sleek black with the logo written across it in gold. Māra definitely notices it is not the name of the vitamin store, but she only grins as she looks up to Eve. Māra is thankful though. There is at least enough decency not to call it out between them. Māra’s phone is a constant clack from the back seat as Calum and Eve share the front. The charms swing and click with the bumps and as she swipes away. 

“I passed that English quiz, Dad,” Māra offers between the songs on the radio. 

“That’s awesome, sweetpea. Seems like the extra ten times a day study is paying off.”

“Yeah, I’m not a fan of the fact that I have to add extra time in English. But you were right in the end. Just need to slow down when I’m annotating to really get it.”

Eve’s content from the passenger seat. When the conversation dies, the radio takes over and after a while, Māra will cut in with something else. Usually directed at Calum, but it’s okay. That’s her father and she would never want to cut in on that. They pull up to the house and Eve surveys to see if Kiri’s car is in the driveway. When it’s not, she relaxes a little. She can finally get more details. Māra grabs her bag from the backseat and as they all climb out she takes Eve’s hand gently. “I don’t think I said thank you earlier for coming today and for paying. I really appreciate your kindness, Eve.”

“You’re welcome, Māra. I’m honored you wanted to shopping with me and trusted me enough with it.”

They smile at each other and something like an agreement or understanding feels like it’s blossomed. “Off to my books,” Māra offers. It almost feels like a question, like she’s double checking it’s okay to leave the conversation. 

Eve nods. “Happy studying.” She watches Māra stride all the way into the house. She realizes Māra has a key to the house too. Which of course makes sense. 

Calum slides up next to Eve, her bag in his hand. “Can I take a peak?”

Eve laughs. “No, you can’t. But nice try.”

“Had to ask.” 

Eve keeps calm enough that when they stride into the house she doesn’t feel the need to immediately ask about Kiri. She drops her bag off into the room and then joins Calum in the living room. He offers his side as a cuddle--feet already kicked up on the cushions. Eve finds all too easy to slide between Calum’s legs and rest her head on his chest. He runs his fingers into her hair, rubbing at her scalp. 

“So I told you about Kiri and his stuff, right?”

Eve nods at Calum’s question. “Yes.”

“The girl texted him today. Apologized but didn’t really provide context for why she freaked. He and I are going to talk more when he gets home.”

“Did he say how he’s holding up?”

Calum gives a shrug. “He said he’s a little relieved that she apologized. But it’s eating him alive that he can’t get a straight answer. And I-I don’t know what to tell him. Feels like one of those shitty hard lessons that as a parent I feel like I should be able to soften, but in reality I can’t. It’s just a lesson that’s going to fucking hurt.”

“Wise man told me that we can only do our best when children are faced with those kind of lessons.”

“Yeah, he’s right. Damn bastard,” Calum snickers. 

Eve looks up, cheek smushed still against Calum’s body. “You always manage to find the right words when you need, Calum. And even if they’re not perfect, I think the more important thing is that Kiri knows you’re there for him.” 

“Thank you,” Calum returns, fingers stilling in her hair. “For always being willing to listen.”

“It’s the least I can do, Calum.”

The two lay on the sofa long enough in silence that Calum slips away into sleep. Eve senses how deep his breathing is before the snores start up. She smiles and waits for another ten minutes before she slowly pulls herself from Calum’s hold. He stirs just a little, head turning now to face the couch cushions, but he doesn’t wake. Eve takes her phone from the coffee table. 

She goes back to her calls and taps on the number from this morning. The line connects and more heavy breathing, fills the line. Eve is as quiet as she can be as she rattles off the coordinates carrying herself into the hall bathroom. “Confirm the amount,” she commands for the second time today. 

“550,” the voice heaves back. A bit of a growl curls up the last few syllables. 

“Make scarce. Do not contact me again about this mission. ”

“Understood, my liege.” 

Eve slips her phone back into her pocket and flushes the toilet though she didn’t use it. She runs the sink for about a minute, running her hands under the water. She shakes her hand free of the excess water before going for a paper towel. When she steps back out of the bathroom. Calum’s still curled up on the couch. Māra’s laugh comes from above Eve. Out here, no one will know about what Eve’s done. 

She prays, though, as she settles back down on the couch, resting Calum’s feet into her lap that the apology is enough for Kiri. Eve couldn’t get more. She didn’t need to press to know that she wouldn’t get it. But maybe there’s a little good in the bad. For Kiri’s sake--Eve hopes it’s the truth. 

***************************

I need some help and I can’t go to Dad. Are you free? Māra stares down at the text. Her cursor blinks, and blinks, and blinks. It’s all true. She does need advice. And she doesn’t feel comfortable enough to go to her Dad about it because she’d been the one to tell him not to ask Eve on her behalf. So here Māra is. But there’s something that feels a little bit like betrayal. She could so easily go to her mother before about these kinds of things. Her aunt was in a whole other country and most definitely wouldn’t see the text for a couple days. No doubt her aunt probably wouldn’t be able to make the trip on such short notice. And truth be told, Māra wants it to be Eve that goes with her. She pictures it now walking into the dance with Eve has her escort. The entire room would fall silent but Māra wouldn’t feel so left out. She wouldn’t need to feel pity and no one would need to pity her just because her mom had died. Because Māra would have Eve there to ward off any pity. Eve would make Māra feel safer than just with Calum alone. 

Anyone else that Māra might ask might give her too much sympathy too. Sure it might be an honor that Māra trust them enough to ask to accompany her. But even that thought makes Māra’s stomach churn. She needs someone without the sympathetic gaze to help her with this. So the only other person Māra can think of is Eve. No doubt Eve may not see this text for a few days either. Eve seemed to disappear almost without warning. She’d be there at the house one day and then a few hours later, gone. Dad always said she had duties to see too. He never looked worried so it made Māra feel more confident that it wasn’t anything major. But it did happen a lot. What would happened if Māra asked and duties came up day of? Who would Māra turn to then? But it’s not helpful to think of such scenarios. 

Eve did say that whenever Māra needed her, she could ask. Text--specifically. Eve said to text because she was more likely to see that and than a missed call. Eve can only say no to the request. But a yes would mean so much more. 

“Oh, screw it. Just hit send,” Māra reprimands herself verbally. 

The text lifts, the bar loading, and then settles. The green box stares back at Mara, I need some advice and I can’t go to Dad for help. Are you free?

Her phone swoons. I’m downstairs, and will be up in two minutes. 

Oh, hi, welcome. Didn’t know you had finished up with your stuff. 

Quick one--they’re a rarity. 

Māra snorts at the addition of the smiley face. But she is glad that the response is pretty immediate. Another minutes goes by and the rumble up the stairs doesn’t sound like one person. Māra listens at her door, ear pressed to it to catch who else might be coming up the stairs. She assumes one of them is Eve. Cailean was already in his room, or so she thinks given he was a few minutes ago. There’s no telling where he might’ve migrated too. Kiri’s on Christmas break and had planned a trip to New Mexico for the the last week after the holidays right before classes resumed. 

“I-I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her dad--that’s who the second person is and though they’re keeping their volume down there’s no other noise to completely drown them out. 

“About what?”

“It’s important but if Māra’s asking for you, it can wait.” 

Māra continues to press into the closed door for Eve’s response. There’s something like a whisper and this time Māra can’t catch all of what is said. But the silence that follows stretches for a while. Maybe it’s more whispers. Māra strains and strains to listen, only she catches nothing. The stretch of silence is broken by a knock on the door. Māra jumps, a tiny screech leaving her as she backs away from the door. The door handle turns and before the door cracks fully open, Eve’s voice floats through wood. “You okay, Māra? Can I come in?”

“I’m okay,” Māra returns, one hand still clutching her chest. She should’ve backed away from the door the moment it went silent for longer than a second or two. 

The door cracks open slightly and Eve slips in, before turning back to the hallway. “I’ll be downstairs once you two are done.” 

Eve says nothing as she shuts the door close, though she does nod at Calum’s statement. Eve watches Māra settle onto the edge of her bed. Where Eve and Kira and even Cailean were on good terms, the three of them being able to jump in and out of conversations easily, Eve and Māra were still doing a dance. Māra was nice to Eve. When Eve was over, Māra offered the spot next to her on the couch or if she was getting a snack she’d asked if Eve wanted something. They had the one shopping trip they went one. It’s was fun. Eve was cool and always managed to uphold the rules that even Māra knew she couldn’t bend without making it seem like a big idea. She’d offer something like, Maybe we try to find something longer than this or I think the top needs a bit more coverage. What do you think? Māra always knew it was a no, but at least it was more a conversation. 

But since then, Māra and Eve were still assessing boundaries. Māra would default to Calum if she needed anything. The exception being when Calum needed a root canal and Eve stepped in to drive him to and from the appointment. Then, when Calum had gone to try and sleep off some of the lidocaine, Māra leaned into Eve a bit more asking Eve if she could help Māra with assembling the last of her poster board for her science fair project. 

Eve is happy to help, but she makes a rule to never force any interaction. She’ll ask or try to initiate but she never forces. This feels decidedly different. Māra wants Eve’s help with something before going to Calum. 

“How was it?” Māra ask, tossing her phone up for a moment and then catching it. The keychain attached to her phone grips clacks in the air before clashing against the case as Māra catches it. “Should I call it work? How was work?”

“You can call it work. It is a job, basically. And it was fine. Nothing to report home about.”

“This--would we be home?”

“If you’re okay with it.”

Māra snorts just a little. “If Dad is literally following you around like a lost puppy is any indication, I think it’s safe to say, you can call this home.”

Eve leans into the door. “It does matter to me what you think too. You’ve built this place with your Dad and your Mom. I don’t get an automatic claim to anything just because Calum’s a lost puppy.”

Māra cringes a little hearing back her own words. “You can’t tell him I said that though. He’ll kill me.”

“Consider the secret safe.” 

Māra can’t bring herself to get to the point, the reason why she’d asked Eve for help in the first place. It felt ridiculous to ask her something like that and the two of them really didn’t have much of a relationship besides a mutual understanding. Perhaps, before asking for something, Māra can get to know Eve more. Outside of the blunt and honest woman that she’d always presented. “What--what is it like? What you do?” she asks. 

“Oh, well, it’s not fun. We don’t party that’s for sure. It’s necessary, I guess, is the best way to describe it.”

“Plain English, Eve. Please.”

Eve snorts, pushing off the front door a little and then wanders to the doors in front of the closet. She takes in the poster on the door, a band that Eve’s never heard of but keeps a mental note of should they surface up in town in the near future, before facing Māra.  “It’s shit. Dealing with assholes who want to complain they don’t belong in Hell. Or you get the people proud to be there and they’re really the worst.”

“Sounds like high school--the worst,” Māra teases.

“Worse than high school,” Eve laughs. 

“No way. High school’s awful.”

“Why? What happened?” Eve asks. 

“It’s drama--pointless really. That’s what makes it so awful. None of it matters who’s screwing who or who’s dating who. But everytime I blink someone’s up in arms because of who their boyfriend is texting.”

“Tell me about it, if you want of course.” Eve doesn’t want to probe if Māra’s not going to give up more. 

“It started really when Robyn started dating Morgan. Morgan’s always been a bit more…free-spirited. Let’s say.”

Eve nods that she understands and then slowly approaches the bed to settle down next to Māra. Māra goes on a five minute rant about Morgan’s reputation preceding her--a sophomore at the school. Eve learns that Robyn, who is a freshman like Māra, had known Morgan through a mutual friend that was outside of the group that Robyn and Māra are in. Due to Morgan’s reputation, the entire friend group told Robyn to spend more time getting to know Morgan before deciding to date her. It’s sound advice, but not advice that any fourteen year old would listen to in the end. Robyn has a late birthday, Māra explains. Where the rest of the friend group was turning fifteen, Robyn was still behind them. Which leads to Robyn hearing rumors about Morgan. Morgan vehemently denies kissing anyone else since Robyn and Morgan went official but the seeds of doubt had been planted. 

Eve does her best to keep up, especially when it comes to a potential plan to see of Morgan would cheat. Eve wants to interject that maybe setting someone up isn’t the best way to go about finding out the truth, but refrains as Māra’s retelling continues. “The set up is stupid. Because even if something were to happen, it really wouldn’t be fair to Morgan. She’d be in there with other girls and who’s to say that one of them wouldn’t force herself on Morgan. It’s--can I swear in front of you?”

Eve nods. “Who am I going to tell?”

“My dad for starters.”

Eve withholds the obvious. Māra has sworn in front of her father before. This moment is about bonding more deeply. So Eve returns with, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Māra grins at the statement. “I like you. Anyways, it would be really fucked up to send Morgan in there with no one else. I told everyone to drop that idea and really, we have to take Morgan at her word. If she said she didn’t, then I believe she didn’t.”

“Do you believe the rumors about her reputation? It doesn’t sound like you do.”

Māra shrugs. “I mean, do I believe that Morgan’s willing to kiss and make out with a few people? Yeah, I do. She’s sweet but she knows what she wants and really isn’t afraid to go after it, you know? I don’t think that makes her a bad person.”

“So, why tell Robyn to take it slow?”

“I’ve spent only the last seven years with Robyn. I know her. She’ll go guts deep into something without considering the consequences. She’s also a bit of a romantic. And I get it, romance is nice. But she gets lost in it, you know? I didn’t want her to get hurt. Morgan is nice and I don’t think she’d cheat on Robyn. But Robyn’s a little gullible and she won’t think twice before believing something.”

“So you didn’t want Robyn to get hurt by jumping in too fast with Morgan because rumors would surface? Instead you wanted Robyn to like Morgan for who Morgan is and to be able to withstand the rumors?”

Māra points at Eve, a single white painted nail excitedly jutted out at Eve. “Exactly that! If Robyn had spent more time getting to know Morgan before, when rumors re-surfaced Robyn would know better.”

“You’re a good friend, you know?”

Heat rises on Māra’s face. She just tries her best to be a good person. It doesn’t always help that she’s quick to slice with her words. But she tries. “Thanks.”

“So, what did you need help with? Are you trying to console Robyn now?”

“Oh,” Māra got so caught up in relaying the drama to Eve she nearly forgot what she’d asked Eve up to the room for.  She pauses at the edge of her bed a few inches from Eve. Māra picks lint that doesn’t exist off the comforter. “Robyn’s heart is broken, or so she says. I think once she talks with Morgan later it’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rush you. I was quite invested in Robyn and Morgan. You can-you can continue.” Eve keeps still as Māra settles down. 

Māra falls back into the mattress with a bounce. “Robyn hasn’t texted me back yet so I’m not sure what’s going on anymore. Well, for right now at least.”

“Keep me updated?” Eve asks. She wants to tap on Māra’s knee but she freezes instead and waits. 

“You do that a lot,” Māra counters. 

“Do what?”

“Just stay still. Like you’re afraid sudden movement is going to make you explode or something go bang. You’re still a lot.”

“The truth is I’m afraid a lot. More so now than ever,” Eve answers. 

“Afraid?” Māra questions. What would the devil have to fear? Shouldn’t Eve fear nothing. 

Eve shakes her head. “Not things I’d want you to worry about. I keep still because I try to remind myself there’s still time. But it’s time I’m most afraid of. It’s ironic don’t you think?”

“I think everyone is afraid of time,” Māra returns. 

“What makes you scared of time?” Eve asks. 

“Forgetting my mother. Growing older, getting married all without her. Then I’m scared of not knowing what I should be doing with my life anyway.”

“She--”

“Mom loves me. I know. Present tense. But she’s still not here, you know? She can love me and still not be here. Because she’s dead.”

Eve nods. “You’re right.”

This is the time to ask, really. If Māra’s going to ask Eve, it’s right now. She pushes up to sit on the bed, tucking her legs around herself. Would Eve think Māra is strange for such a request? But it’s something Māra needs to do now. She needs this, everyone else be damn. “There’s a dance,” Māra starts. “In two weeks. You know how there are father-daughter dances. This is an etiquette dance, a debutante ball really. It’s a big deal. I-I wasn’t going to go originally. But I think I do. For Mom, you know. She and I went every year.”

“I think she’d like you too.”

“Could you ask her?” Māra laughs after she asks. “I know she’s not with you. But I’d like to go. And I’d like to know if you’d come with us?”

“Us?” Eve questions. 

“Dad is going to go, obviously. But it’s not the same with just him. There’s a mother-daughter dance and while Dad would fill in in a heartbeat, I’d like to not stand out so much, you know? I’d like you to be there too.” 

Calum had mentioned the dance briefly to Eve. He’d been frantically trying to find a pocket square to match her dress color. He found one eventually, but it took four different suit stores to find it across L.A. Eve gently reaches for Māra’s knee, giving it a squeeze. “I’d love to accompany you.”

Māra grins, taking Eve’s hand into her own. “Thanks. And can I ask one more thing?”

“Of course.”

“I need help. There’s a dress from Mom I want to repurpose and rework. But I don’t know anything about sewing.”

Eve laughs. “I can help. I’ve learned a thing or two about sewing. Show me the dress and what you want.”

“There’s a sewing machine and stuff in Mom’s old craft room. I don’t think Dad’s got rid of anything in there yet,” Māra states, pushing herself off the bed. She opens one of the closet doors and yanks down a white dress. The more Eve takes it in, the more she realizes it might’ve been a wedding dress. “It’s Mom’s reception dress. Dad’s got the wedding dress I think. Said I couldn’t have it just yet to mutilate it.”

The spaghetti strap dress with a full length skirt and lace detailing isn’t much to work with, but Māra details how she wants to shorten it just a little to make it midi length and if she could maybe add illusion back, but a second set of sleeves that hang lower on her shoulder. It’ll still be a classy silhouette but it’s bring the look from wedding formal just to formal. 

Māra leads the charge from her room downstairs. Eve follows, gown in her arms. The back is low when Māra tries it on, and it’s a little too big in some areas so Eve knows she’s got to take the bust and waist in too. It’s a lot of work to do in just two weeks. But a plus is that Eve doesn’t need to sleep. As Eve finds the tape measure and a notebook to take the measurements in, she does her best not to think about the presence she can feel pressing into the back of her. Dead people do not haunt her like they did Death, but Eve still knows when someone’s spirit lingers. Kelsie is in every corner of the room. Eve prays her presence does not feel like an intrusion. 

“Where did you learn to sew?” Māra asks. “Dad said you were a dance instructor when you two first met.”

“I was,” Eve returns, pinning the spot on how much length she needs to take off. “I was a seamstress before that. And before that I was a lawyer.”

“A lawyer?”

“Decades ago. Before any of you, Calum included, were born.”

“Are they like front jobs?”

“In a way, yes. They keep me Earth side for legitimate reasons when I need them. I could easily just lie and manipulate my way through but it makes things less normal. When I first encounter people they don’t know who I am. I have to have a reason to stick around.”

“Other than love?”

“Other than love,” Eve agrees. 

“What’s your cover story now? So I know how to answer that at the dance,” Māra covers. 

“Don’t have one now. Didn’t think I’d need one for at least about thirty years. Calum’s getting up there, but he still has a good stretch in him. If it helps, you can tell them I’m retired.”

“You won’t look it.” Māra doesn’t mean it maliciously. It’s just the truth. Eve hardly looks like she’s pushed out of her twenties. And while she knew her father and Eve had years of history, the rest of the world would see a woman forty years her dad’s junior appearance wise. Māra worries for a brief moment that someone might say something. How would Eve react? Hell, how would Māra react?

“I’ll never look old enough.” 

Māra hums at the response. It’s true. Eve looked the same as she did in the photographs Māra had discovered back when her mother first died. The moment Eve walked in through the door it was like Eve had been plucked out of the thirty year old photograph and preserved just now for the moment. There’s no way Eve wasn’t mystical. 

“I’m sorry for calling you a snake,” Māra returns to the still air. 

Eve’s busy now pinning and pinching the extra fabric around Māra’s waist to get it to sit right. “You weren’t technically wrong.” 

The flick of Eve’s tongue makes Māra laugh just a little. It’s nice to see Eve being comfortable around them. Though it was definitely strange the first few times she’d shown up hiding away her features. She still does, Māra notices. Most of the time Eve presents her brown eyes and normal tongue. But there’s been the occasional fright where she’s had to set off from their place and in the rush, they’ve seen the purple irises and forked tongue. 

“Still, I’m sorry.”

Eve nods, hands hovering over the bust. “Apology accepted. Now I do have to work in the bust area. You okay with me continuing with you still in the dress or do you just want to pass along your bra size and I’ll work with that.”

“I’m okay for you to keep pinning,” Māra returns, staring straight at the wall. She does glance over to Eve who nods in her gaze. 

“Thank you. So, what color should I wear, Māra? I’d hate to clash.”

“Dad’s wearing black. I think you should wear what you want, really.”

“You sure? What if I showed up wearing bright red?” Eve snorts. “That would be a sight.”

“It would look nice.”

“If I’m honest, I don’t own much outside of gray and black.”

“Well, besides your wedding dress.”

Eve’s laughter is all through her nose. She’d worn a white fit and flare dress, lace floral details in the bodice that gave way to a satin skirt and a matching white cape. It felt right when Eve wore it for the wedding, but it’d been waiting since then for use. After a few decades, she’d slip it into someone’s donation bin and let it take on a new life like she did with the others. But now, the idea swirls at the base of Eve’s skull before flittering over her lips in an fleeting exhale, “Perhaps I should dye it black now.”

“I’ll help,” Māra grins. 

“I’ll give a good trim too. It’s too long now I think.”

“Definitely,” Māra nods. “You think you can do all that in just two weeks though?”

Eve brings the mirror from the corner close to Māra. “I don’t sleep. What do you think? Good length and fit?”

The dress does fit it a bit tighter without it being scandalous. The length hits about four or five inches from her ankles. Though Māra knows the technical rules, she was one of the older girls helping to bring in the latest round of girls into the debutante and then also use this as her last hurrah before she aged out completely out. But the color and length are close enough that Māra’s willing to risk it. Without the excess fabric, Māra can wear her heels without issue and if they kick her out for an extra few inches, then they just kick her out. “I look hot.”

The two women laugh and Eve takes it as a good sign. She notes how much she needs to take up and in for each section and then lets Mara dress back in her normal clothes. “Give me a week and then you can try it on again to see if it fits right.”

Māra nods and then steps in closer to the older woman. She slips her arms around Eve’s waist in a hug. “Thanks, Eve.”

Though for a moment Eve freezes, she lets herself relax enough to hug Māra back. It’s not strange. Eve hoped this moment would come. It’s the fear again. Eve doesn’t want to fuck it all up with Māra. But if the hug is any indication, perhaps she’d been doing better than she realized. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Are you serious about the wedding dress? I think it would be worth hemming and dying it.”

“I’d need help getting the length right,” Eve offers, letting Māra pull back out of her hold just a little. The young girl grins up at Eve and Eve knows. “But I think I know the perfect assistant.”

“I don’t think we should show Dad--your dress I mean. It should be a secret. It would kill him, but worth it in the end.”

“I like secrets,” Eve laughs. “When you try on your dress, I’ll bring mine so we can discuss what to do.” 

Eve was still holding the secret about Kiri. And as much as Eve didn’t want to keep that from Calum, she knew what she did was wrong. She’d meddled. She’s gotten involved and even in the end, it still hadn’t helped much. He and Calum talked later that same day. When Calum came back that night to the room, before Eve left to handle business, she could clearly see the distress etched into his face. Kiri walked with a bit of a slump for a few days. Eve knows natural consequences occur for every decision. If the chips fell down on her about it, she could withstand it. 

Māra’s laugh brings Eve back to the present. “Sounds perfect. Thanks again for agreeing to this. The dress and attending, it means a lot.”

Eve tightens her hold briefly back around Māra wanting nothing more than to savor the moment. “Of course, Māra.” 

Eve slips out of the room to let Māra change back with some privacy and when she’s out in the hallway, Calum’s leaning against the wall. His arms are folded over his chest. “Is Māra still in there?” he asks. 

Eve nods. His look is stern and she knows. This moment here are the chips falling. This was the important thing he wanted to talk to her about. A few weeks later and her choices caught up with her. “Yes, she is,” Eve answers. 

“Did she ask you to join us for the dance?”

“She did. I accepted.”

“Thank you,” Calum returns with a nod. “She’s been nervous to ask.” His tone is even, but his jaw is set hard. Eve’s best bet is just to answer whatever questions that Calum has. This is not the time for her to joke. When it came to his children, Calum is not the type to take anything severely lightly. Eve knows she’s going to have to come clean instantly. 

The door behind Eve creaks. The sound alone breaks both Calum and Eve out of their stare down. Eve steps away from the door, turning to grin at Māra. “One week,” Eve reminds her. 

“It’s a date. Don’t forget the other stuff,” Māra returns to Eve. 

“I wouldn’t dare forget it.”

Māra slips away, a grin painting her face. Eve and Calum both wait for her to fully exit the hallway before they slip into the room wordlessly together. Eve’s already gotten into the habit of keeping any quarrels the two of them have away from the kids if they can. 

“What did you do?” Calum asks. He’s past the moment of patience and formalities. The thought that Eve might’ve been potentially involved scratched at his brain a couple days after Kiri got the text. But then it faded as they prepared for the holidays. It had to fade away because between coordinating his mother’s arrival into town, getting all the presents wrapped, and helping Kiri get his trip to New Mexico finalized, there was no time for the half crocked idea to fester. But now his mother’s gone, Kiri’s texted him that he’s safely arrived in New Mexico with his friends. Now, there’s plenty of time to think. 

Calum’s gut knows though. As he thought about the timing of it all and the way Kiri described Brynna--her apology just didn’t add up. Before Eve’s lip curl, Calum’s next sentence is already falling from his throat. “That girl was never going to say anything.  Then the day after I mentioned it to you, she came back with an apology. I couldn’t worry about it before. Too much was happening. But now, I've been thinking and I need to know. What did you do?”

“I had someone speak with her,” Eve returns. It’s as simple as that. There’s no beating around the bush. Eve just answers the question. She did. She only had someone speak with her--in her dreams. There would be no way to prove anything. What would Brynna say? She was met with her literal demons in her dreams and had a change of heart. What would it sound like? Just a girl who might’ve seen the errors of her way. 

But not to Calum--clearly. 

Calum knows better though. Even if it’s a shock that Eve’s not playing some joke or using a riddle, there’s still something underneath her words. “Speak with her or scare the shit of her. I know you, Eve. You don’t play fair or nice.”

“They sound the same to me.”

Calum huffs, pacing the length of the room. There’s the old Eve. Or maybe the truth is Eve would always be who she was. There was nothing new or old about it. It is just Eve. Calum spins approaching Eve. She stands so still and sometimes Calum worries when she freezes like this she’s preparing for something awful. She never flinches away though. Calum’s always cognizant to give her a couple feet in these kinds of situations. For a moment, his heart pangs in his chest that she’s prepared for something, someone to hit her. But then he thinks about Kiri and his brain clicks back onto the track he needed it on. 

“Why did you do it?” Calum questions. Intent didn’t always negate the effect. Eve’s intention wouldn’t undo the fact that she’d interfered. Her intentions wouldn’t undo the fact that it opened a wound for Kiri that had potentially been scabbing over. But her intentions would settle Calum’s nerves. He’d know more about what Eve was hoping to accomplish. 

“I thought it would help give Kiri closure.”

“Did it seem like it worked?”

“Not in the slightest,” Eve returns. It’s honest. Calum catches the blinks. Eve’s trying to keep her emotions at bay. He can’t tell if it’s anger, or tears from remorse. But something about the way things worked out seems to be striking a cord in Eve. 

“Do you regret it? Whatever you did.” He won’t ever know and maybe it’s for the best that he doesn’t know. Then he doesn’t have to worry about almost spilling it to Kiri. 

“I regret that it hurt Kiri further. I don’t know if I feel remorse for thinking it would work.”

Another truly honest Eve sentiment. Always sorry for the damage, not always sorry for the attempt. Calum doesn’t fault her. He’d briefly considered trying to find this girl himself, having words with her or her parents maybe. But it’s not his life that must be lived. It’s Kiri’s life. Anything they did would impact him. Calum gets it. And now Eve’s learned the hard way. 

“We cannot tell Kiri about this. He cannot find out you meddled.”

“I’ll take it to my grave,” Eve promises. Whatever her grave looks like, whatever it means for Eve to take something into her death. 

Calum exhales. She is good at keeping secrets. She never looked like she was hiding something. But the timing of it all was just too suspicious for Calum. He takes her hands into his, but Eve gently slips them back to her side. Calum doesn’t fight her. “Please don’t meddle in my kids' lives anymore, okay? Please don’t do it again. I won’t ask again. So if you promise it right now, it is for the rest of their natural lives. Understood? I don’t care if they’re 82. Please do not meddle in their lives.”

“Understood,” Eve whispers. “I really am sorry it hurt Kiri more. I never intended for that.” Her voice cracks a little and Calum sees it. How much Eve hadn’t meant to make things worse. Sometimes natural consequences are the best teacher. 

“You wanted to help,” Calum concedes. “But talk to me first. When it comes to my children, please talk to me first before you do anything. Unless it’s something to save them. You can be so literal sometimes and I have to cover my ass.”

Eve snorts at the jab and uses the back of her hands to wipe at her cheeks. “I will.”

Calum opens his arms, the question of a hug lingering in the gap. Eve steps into his chest. He imagined this conversation to be more like pulling teeth. Eve would make a joke or give some sort of riddle response to be sarcastic. He’d tried to remind himself Eve was who she was, and her tactics weren’t always the most conventional. But Eve stripped down her walls. She’d been honest without too much sarcasm. “They sound the same to me,” he snorts in a taunt. “Smartass.”

 “Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to with me.”

“You used to not answer. I used to have to ask and call you out for being a stubborn ass in order to get an answer.”

“Now when you do ask, you get truth. Ain’t it unpleasant.”

Calum inhales, nose filling with the scent of Eve’s shampoo. “It’s growth for you. Even if it’s a pain in my ass.”

“That’s my job.”

“You weren’t ever going to say anything, were you?”

“I know you wouldn’t be a fan of my methods,” Eve returns. 

“You were right.” Calum pulls back, taking her face into his palms. “Did you mean it, when you promised about staying out of their lives like this?”

“I meant it when I promised, Calum.” Eve knows Calum needs the reassurance so she’s happy to supply. “Swear it on with my life. Let the Big Guy strike my dead.”

Both of them are silent--waiting. Nothing comes. No hiss of pain from Eve. No flash of lightning. Calum exhales. “Okay, okay. No more meddling for you.”

Eve nods. “No more meddling in your kids’ lives.” Calum can’t help the laugh. Of course Eve would be quite specific about the term of her promise. But he wouldn’t expect anything else. 

**********************

Calum’s knocked, figuratively but also a little literally, on his ass when he calls up the stairs to get Eve and Māra to descend and both of them are already standing at the top of the stairs. Eve gives Māra’s curls one more quick swipe through with her fingers. But he’s more taken aback by the tight black dress Eve’s in. The see-through cape on her shoulders shows off how tight the skirt of the dress is. It stops about three inches or so from her ankles. But it hides very little of her figure. Not that Calum ever thinks Eve needs to hide. He’s just gotten so used to her looser clothes. Still flattering, but not as tight. There’s something like lace he thinks in the details of the dress, but he can’t quite tell from this distance. Calum has to tear his gaze away lest he have another situation to deal with at the ball in and of itself. 

He clears his throat, head dropping to handle the sight he just took in of Eve’s brown skin in the black dress, how the material hugs her curves. His fingertips tingle just a little with the arousal. 

“Calum, if you shout once more for us, you and I will have a problem,” Eve returns with a grin. “We needed to be done by 7:30 to make it on time. What time is it again?”

Calum glances down at his watch. “Seven thirty on the dot.”

“Exactly,” she faces him now from the top of the steps.

He catches the lace flowers now on the front of the dress. The cape around her shoulder has flowers too. He’d know that dress anywhere. He’d know it in a heartbeat. Her wedding dress. It’s not as long or flowy as it was when she wore it originally. But there it is with new life in front of his eyes. Calum knows his mouth is agape but he can hear the giggles. “I-sorry,” he starts. 

“I think you’ll catch flies, Dad, with your mouth hanging like that.”

Calum brings his gaze over to Māra dawned in Kelsie’s  reworked reception dress. There’s a second set of sleeves that have been added, and some of the length taken up. But Māra’s covered to her neck is lace. He can tell by the applique lace detailing that sits higher than the original neckline. But she still looks gorgeous. She looks so grown up, much more than he’s used to seeing. 

“I think the two of you have officially sent me to an early grave,” Calum breathes out. He clutches his chest as he ascends the stairs. When he gets to the top he gently twirls Māra to a full view. “You look beautiful, sweetpea.” 

“Thanks, Dad. Do you think we did Mom’s dress justice?”

Calum nods. His throat seized for a moment. The tears are going to fall. He’s not going to be able to stop it either. “Hands down, sweetpea. There is no doubt in my mind that Kelsie would be so incredibly proud to see you in her dress.”

“Dadm if you cry I’m going to cry,” Māra starts. Her voice wavers too. “And then I’m going to ruin my makeup.”

Calum exhales and it’s shaky. “I think you need to prepare for your mascara to run.” 

He tries to do what he can to snuck back his tears. But he can’t. The tears slip down Calum’s cheeks and Māra’s tears are falling too. Eve hands them both tissues before they embrace each other. Calum wasn’t sure why Māra had snatched the dress when she did. He assumed it was maybe a desire to keep some part of Kelsie alive. So he never asked her directly. But now that he’s watching Māra come into her own and see how deeply she wants to honor her mother in the process, it overwhelms Calum. 

They embrace for a long while, even Calum knows it’s too long. But he doesn’t care. When they separate, he checks over Māra’s face. “Oh, no mascara that ran,” he reports. “A good sign.”

“Waterproof, sweetheart. It’s not going anywhere,” Eve laughs when Māra looks back to Eve. 

“You knew?” Māra asks. 

“Sure did. Was married to your father for seven years. I know he cries at everything,” Eve laughs. 

“He does, doesn't he?”

Once Eve is able to patch up Māra’s makeup, they descend down the steps. Eve does snap some candids but Māra’s insistent that they get any other photos while at the ball itself. It’s not a far trek to the truck once downstairs, but Eve helps with Māra’s dress and gets her safely inside. Calum starts to help Eve but he pushes back on the passenger door. “Your wedding dress?” Calum questions. He still can’t believe he’s seeing it again. Even like this. He can’t fathom that he’d be lucky enough to see it twice in his lifetime. 

It doesn’t sound like a bad question. There’s no malice. He just sounds breathless at the prospect. “Too much?” Eve questions. 

Calum shakes his head. “No, no. I’m just floored. It looks fucking incredible. You look, God. I don’t have the words for how amazing you look.”

Eve grins kissing at Calum’s freshly shaven cheek. “Thank you. Mar’s idea.”

“I’m raising a genius,” he laughs, cracking open the passenger door. 

Eve climbs in easily and he catches sight now of the clear heels she’s dawning, rhinestones scattered over the pointed toes. It shows off the dark blue toenail polish. As much as Calum loves this outfit on Eve, he daydreams on the drive over peeling her out of it. He can keep the daydreams in check the second he arrives at the avenue because Calum realizes that he is wildly out of place here. Kelsie was usually the one that handled this stuff. She took Māra to the classes, and balls. He always had emotional support on lock to reassure Māra that she always looked brilliant in her dress, but it was Kelsie’s role to partake of this world. She understood the rules. Calum definitely did not. 

He’s not sure if Eve knows better than him. Calum probably should’ve asked if she did. Part of it was an assumption. Eve would have to know more than he did. He was banking on it and now as he’s walking arm in arm with Māra, he glances over to Eve to see if he’s alone in his floundering. Eve looks regal, walking every so slightly ahead of them to get the door. There’s nothing on her face that makes him think she’s totally lost. Either it was a good sign or it was a massive fuck up. Time would surely reveal which one it is. 

At the entrance there is a line of girls and their mothers. They crowd seemingly first at the desk to check in and then at the photographers line at the opposite end of the entryway. Māra reaches for Eve’s elbow and at the contact, Eve extends it without question. Calum catches the way Eve squeezes Māra’s hand just a little as they approach. It’s easy enough to check in--name, number of guests to confirm, and then she’s given the table she’ll be seated at rattled off by a father who looks just as haggard as Calum is sure to feel at the end of all this. 

“Photos first, if that’s okay. While we still look put together.”

Neither Eve nor Calum object to Māra’s question. They continue on and join the line of people waiting for their turn with the photographer. The line is shortening, which is a good thing. Perhaps the few minutes they got sidetracked at home served them well in the long run. “Do you want photos with just your Dad?” Eve asks once they settled into the line. 

Calum hears what she’s really asking: Do you want photos without me? He doesn’t fault the question. If the tables were turned, he’d be asking the same. 

Māra shakes her head. “I’d like a group shot of all three of us. Then one with just dad and then one with just you.”

“Sounds good,” Eve smiles. She can feel the quiver in her own lip as Māra holds a little tighter to her. 

“Oh my god, Māra!” A younger girl squeals as she steps out of the auditorium. She approaches as fast as she can in her heels. Eve and Calum take a step back as the two girls embrace. 

“Hi, Vee,” Māra laughs, embracing the girl tightly. 

“You look AH-MAZING. Seriously--where did you get the dress??

“It’s-it’s my mom’s old dress. Redesigned it a little. Love the eye makeup by the way. Eve,” Māra pauses and turns to look at Eve. “Eve helped me with the dress. She literally did everything.”

Eve’s wave is tiny, but her head nod is more noticeable. “Hi, Vee.”

“Oh, you’re Eve. You’re, like, hot,” Vee laughs. “Love the black and cape moment.”

“Th-thanks.” Eve’s not sure what she’s supposed to say in response. She’s not sure if it’s code for Eve looks two decades younger than the other mother’s here or if it’s just a compliment. 

The two girls fall into an easy cadence with promises to find each other inside. They’re sitting a table way from each other which doesn’t seem to worry them at all. Perhaps all the adults already understand that the children are going to rearrange their seats to be closer together unless otherwise needed. 

They move up the line as another mother and daughter exit the space in front of the backdrop. Eve stays a little behind Māra and Calum when they move, but Māra reaches back. There’s something in her gaze that Eve catches. Maybe it’s just how Māra widens her eyes just a little and then settles when she realizes Eve hasn’t gone far. 

“Force of habit,” Eve whispers and then slips in next to Māra. 

“Just didn’t want you to disappear on me.”

Eve shakes her head. “No, I won’t disappear on you.”

The line continues to move swiftly and before they realize, it’s Māra who steps up. She settles into the middle, Eve on her left and Calum on her left. “Three poses?” The photographer asks. 

“Four,” Māra corrects. “Group, two duos, one single.”

“Sounds good. Group first. Squeeze in tight,” she directs waving Calum to slide in a bit more. “Perfect. Big smiles, in one, two, three.”

The light flashes from above and Eve prays she didn’t blink. Calum gets a photo with Māra first, then he steps back to allow Eve to step into frame. Māra smiles as Eve closes the three foot gap she created to make sure she wasn’t in frame. “Okay?” Eve asks. 

Māra nods. “Yeah.”

“Specific pose?”

Māra laughs. “Eve just stand here, it’s okay.”

“I have to make sure,” Eve giggles before she rests a hand gingerly around Māra’s waist. They both turn back to the photographer, who counts them down again. It’s another flash and then Eve shuffles over to Calum while Māra gets her solo pose. 

“A set of 5x7 digital prints will be available at the next meeting,” the photographer states. There’s no wait for confirmation. Just waving on the next set of people. Māra leads the both of them back into the auditorium. The dance floor has been clearly marked by the DJ booth and a seat of tables. It’s rectangular and empty, but that doesn’t seem to stop the girls from gathering all around their tables. 

The air feels stuffy in here, but they continue on, finding the table marked with an 18. The entire time Eve walks next to Māra she spies the heads that turn. There it is--the gossip. There is a chance that it’s just a surprise about Māra given the loss of her mother. But when a mother looks away quickly after catching eyes with Eve, Eve knows that just behind that shock with Māra is the whispers about her appearance. But Eve continues on because Māra asked her to be here and Eve would not back out of it just because of some looks. 

Their table is empty but it’s clear where others may be joining them. Māra just gets her phone from Calum before someone else calls out her name. Māra spins and spots Vee and two other girls walking behind her. They hike up their dresses as they walk around the chairs. “Someone got caught trying to spike the punch,” Vee laughs before she’s even closed the distance. 

“What?” Māra returns. “There’s like parents literally everywhere.”

“Maybe it was a parent,” a shorter girl theorizes. “I think I might need a drink to survive this thing.”

Calum and Eve smile to themselves before they settle down at the table. The girls huddle together, voices harmonizing at moments with their laughter. “Maybe we should’ve snuck some flasks inside,” Calum jokes. 

“Can you keep up?” Eve returns.

“I’m not that old.”

“You-you can go mingle,” Eve returns. She’s the one out of place.

Calum grimaces a little. “This was Kelsie’s scene. I’m not even sure anyone would remember me.”

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Māra. I’m glad you came out tonight.” 

Calum and Eve turn to the exclamation to see a mother whose approached the group. Calum leans in, whispering into Eve’s ear. “Barbara-- the the last I heard of her, she’s the debutante’s Queen Bee. No one really likes her. Her daughter hasn’t made an appearance yet. Her family’s got money in this I think. Or founded this. I can’t remember exactly.”

Calum squeezes Eve’s hand and she turns back to face Calum. He reaches for the empty glass in front of his place setting. “Can you spot the peach ball of tulle coming in from the left?”

Eve slowly glances up from her place card to take in the dancefloor and spots the hurried steps and a blur of pink from her right. Eve doesn’t move her head, just lets her eyes drift as far as they can before turning them to center.  “Moving like lightning?” Eve questions 

“Barbara’s right hand--Julie. They’re more often enemies than friends from what Kelsie told me. But they plan the ball together each year.”

“Hmm,” Eve returns, mouth turning down into almost a frown before bouncing back into a neutral line. “Maybe Julie’s the one who snuck in the booze.”

“If I had to guess, it might’ve been Patrick. He’s Barbara’s husband. He doesn’t do anything but show up under the guise of protection and then drinks himself into a slumber an hour into the festivities.”

Eve grins looking up to Calum. His gaze has settled behind her, no double keeping tabs on Māra. “For someone who said this wasn’t their scene. You seem to know a lot.”

“Oh,” Calum laughs. “I love the drama. My favorite part of these things were picking Kelsie and Māra up and hearing all the gossip. Last year, someone didn’t keep their daughter’s dress on theme and was nearly refused at the door.”

“So parents don’t have a dress code?”

Calum looks back to Eve. “I don’t think technically they do. The kids who attend do”

“I assume if Barbara’s got anything to say it might be very frowned upon to dress in dark colors.”

“Eve, you look amazing.” He wonders if Eve’s bringing this up because she’s worried. She wouldn’t have known and he didn’t really have a full mind to double check either. With everything else, he didn’t think it would matter what Eve wore. 

Eve shakes her head, turning back. Barbara’s passed on, approaching another group of girls who have huddled together. She passes by their time. “Nice to see you again, Calum. Thanks for bringing Māra back again this year,” she smiles and then continues right now. There’s not even a smile and nod in Eve’s direction. 

Eve raises her brows as the blatant dismissal of her presence. Calum takes Eve’s hand into his. The hold tightens and Eve knows what Calum is begging her: let it go. Please let it go. “I smell a rat,” Eve hisses. 

“Baby, please,” Calum starts. Eve smells something else too. She smells trouble in the water. Eve hopes Barbara enjoys the flattering now. Eve will not be ignored. As petty as it is, she wouldn’t stand for such blatant disrespect. Barbara continues on to make some rounds and then lands at the table with finger foods and drinks. Eve squeezes at Calum’s hand, and then pushes up from the table. 

“Punch?” she asks Calum. Eve doesn’t really wait for a response before heading towards the table with the finger foods and the drinks. This could all fall apart if Calum gets up and follows her. Maybe it should all fall apart. But Eve continues on towards the table. “Lovely event,” Eve returns, grabbing two cups. 

Barbara turns, smiling as she does. “Thank you. I put blood, sweat, and tears each year to make this a lovely event for the girls.”

“Oh, so it’s all you?” Eve questions. The first cup fills and she sets it down before grabbing the second. 

“Yes, yes, a lot of hard work.”

“I hope it continues to pay off each year for you.”

“You-you have to be new around here.” Barbara narrows her gaze just a little. It looks like she might be trying to assess who Eve might be here with, but Eve knows differently. She’s a scrutinizing gaze rooted a little in displeasure. Eve is a beacon in the sea of white and pinks in black. She is clearly disturbing the status quo. 

“Māra, Calum’s daughter. She asked me to be her escort.”

“Oh,” Barbara’s face falls into the perfect picture of sympathy. “Oh, it’s quite sad. Isn’t it? I’m glad she has you though--family is so important in these times. It’s nice when families can rally together. And excuse me, for being rude and prying. It’s just, well,” Barbara gives a tiny grimace decorated around a smile as if that alone will excuse what she’s about to ask. “Māra’s only mentioned having one aunt before. So I mean imagine my confusion when you show up.”

Eve sets the ladle back into the bowl. “Oh, silly me. Māra only has the one aunt on her dad’s side. His sister is a sweetheart but couldn’t make the flight from the UK in time. Excited to see what the rest of the night brings from such excellent ball planning,” Eve returns, plastering a smile on her face. She picks up the drinks and gives a tiny wave from her free fingers before turning back in the direction of the table. Once Eve is six feet or so from the drink table, she drips the fake smile, “Fake bitch.”

Calum’s eyes are zeroed in as she approaches. Māra’s returned to their table and Eve sets a drink down in front of them. “See you met Mrs. Dunkins,” Māra smirks. 

“She’s a big personality,” Eve returns.

“Do I need to be worried?” Calum asks. 

“Oh, I just introduced myself since she left so fast from our table. Good first impressions,” Eve smiles. 

“Your fake smile is good,” Māra giggles into her cup of punch. “You left that table like you could’ve murked her. Thanks for the punch.”

“You’re welcome, Māra.” Eve doesn’t say that she wanted to give Barbara more than just a heart attack. But perhaps the revelation she’d dropped would be enough. A few moments later someone taps at the microphone. The order of the night is read off--a fully catered meal will come after a few speeches. An intermission will be briefly held which will bleed into some dancing. Dancing will be free for everyone first and then the mother-daughter dance will come halfway through. It feels like a full night. 

And it would quicker to go if not for the fact that almost every mother in the place stops at their table. It’s so good to see you marries in with Oh, I love that you’re here. Going to dance with Dad? and that collides in with If you want me to dance with you, Māra during the mother-daughter dance just let me know. You know where to find me. The sentiments are all meant to be pure but each person pours it one after another it starts to feel like cement. It’s sealing up Māra’s throat. By the time she gets her chicken and rice with asparagus on the side, she thinks she might choke just at the sight of the food. 

How will Māra survive with every pitiful stare pinned to her? Can this much sympathy kill a person? Māra smiles at every passing comment because what is she supposed to say? Is she supposed to tell them she’s starting to regret her choice? Is Māra supposed to just nod and give them platitudes like they are giving her? It feels much too transactional. Māra’s starting to second guess how to be human herself. Māra excuses herself to the bathroom, lifting the skirt of her dress just a little to give her a longer stride. She falls into the doors and the brightlight of the hall. 

She finds the bathroom and falls into the sink. Her reflection is watery. Tears. Those are tears. “You’re okay,” she whispers to herself. “You’re okay. They’re just being nice.”

Māra wishes they weren’t being nice. She wishes they’d ignore her. She wishes she could disappear. How did Eve do it? How did she handle the stares? Māra waves in front of a paper towel dispenser and gets a wad before carefully dabbing the rough materials under her eyes. She can do it. Eve does it. Eve keeps her head high when she walked into that room. When Eve approached Mrs. Dunkins, she never dropped her head. Her mother always knew just how to avoid the feathers that could  be so easily ruffled. Eve ruffled them. What would Māra do? Would Māra be able to placate the rest of evening? Would she cause a scene?

“You’re not Eve. You’re not your mother,” Māra exhales. She’s neither one of those women. But those are all the women she knows to replicate. 

Eve keeps her eyes on the doors. Māra’s plate is covered, still waiting for her even though the rest of them have been taken to the kitchen. Eve insisted on keeping it just in case Māra still wanted more. The music is rattling around them, lights low. But Eve keeps her eyes trained on the doors for Māra to come back through them. 

“Do you think she’s okay?” Eve asks. 

“I-I don’t know. But I’m getting nervous too,” he admits. 

“Don’t let them take her plate,” Eve directs to Calum. “I’ll find her.”

The high lights hurt for just a moment and then Eve adjusts her pupils and the amount of pain reduces rapidly. Eve can see where they checked in, the photo station. And then just to the right of the photo’s backdrop and across from the check in tables are the bathroom. Eve carries herself to the doors. The entrance feeds to a corner and when Eve rounds it, she spots Māra leaning against the sinks. Her sniffles echo off the tiles. 

“Mar?” Eve states quietly. 

“I’m okay,” Māra returns. “I just--they kept asking me about that stupid fucking dance. It’s one dance. My mother’s dead. But I don’t, I don’t need all the sympathy. It’s too much.”

Eve’s heels click as crosses to Māra. She’s gentle as she takes hold of Māra’s elbow. “Sweetheart, fuck them. Fuck every single one of them. If you want to dance, if you don’t want to dance, fuck ‘em.”

“Mom would’ve said they were just being nice.”

“And Kelsie would’ve been right. And I would’ve been right too. They are being nice. But fuck them because they don’t know what it feels like to have that much attention. They’re trying to show they care. But fuck them because they’re also expressing that kind sentiment to prove how nice they are and how much they do care. None of them called you. None of them dried your tears. Your dad did. You dried your own tears. But not them. Sure, they want to be nice. But also fuck them and niceties too sometimes.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“I’m not,” Eve answers to the question underneath. “So fuck me too.”

Māra snorts. Eve takes Māra’s hand now. “I-I can’t leave without trying.”

“I won’t leave your side,” Eve promises.

Māra’s grip is tight around Eve’s palm. “You won’t let go?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Eve is careful to clean what she can of Māra’s tears and they return to the auditorium hand in hand. The lights have lifted just a little. Where it’s clear the bodies have been swaying freely they slow. “Mothers, find your daughters. We have two minutes till dance time,” the DJ calls out. 

The entire room shifts. Daughters turning from the groups. Mother’s pushing out of their chairs. Eve squeezes as Māra’s hand and they continue on towards the dancefloor. She prays--to God himself--that he does interrupt this moment. She’d ignore it. This would be a first but she would do it for Māra. They breach the dance floor, the first mother-daughter duo to break the seal. Eve looks to Māra and when Māra looks back, she nods. “You’re okay,” Eve whispers. 

“Thirty seconds to dance,” the DJ calls back out. 

The entire floor floods at the warning. Māra spins to face Eve. They didn’t practice this. Māra and her mother would practice every year before the dance. But not her and Eve. Eve doesn’t seem to hesitate like Māra does. She steps in closer. Māra’s not sure where to put her hands. She always held her mother’s waist, slip her head onto her mother’s shoulder. Could she do the same with Eve? They start initially with a bit of distance. Arms looped around shoulders, they take it slow. It’s awkward. As Māra thinks too much about where her feet are and what this might look like to the outside, she feels hot under the lights. 

Māra, taking in the sight of how deep the pocket around them, trips a little. Eve’s there, arms sliding around her waist to keep her upright. Her body is warm and firm. Māra ducks her head into Eve’s shoulder for a moment. “Everyone’s staring,” she whispers, letting herself follow Eve’s lead now. 

Eve keeps Māra close, letting their arms readjust to the new hold. Māra allows herself to slide in a little closer. It’s not bad, here, feeling as if Māra might be able to hide away in the safety of Eve’s catch. 

“Do I seem like the type people really want to make mad?” Eve whispers back after a beat of silence. 

Māra snorts. There’s the response she was waiting for. When she looks out, chin resting on Eve’s shoulder, Māra can see how there are a lot of stares. But maybe they don’t really matter. Maybe Eve was right. Fuck them. Māra had asked Eve here because she knew Eve wouldn’t care about the stares. Eve would be able to weather the storm.

Eve’s voice is soft as she continues on over the violins. Her chest and throat rumble as she speaks to Māra. “Haven’t you noticed every dress in here is white, cream, blush, ivory, or pink. I am sticking out like a store thumb in black. Let me be your shield. If we’re no longer enemies, let me protect you.”

“You-you can’t protect me. Not when this ends and I go to the meetings. They’ll still talk.”

“Then I’ll come with you, yeah? If they want to talk they’ll have to say it to my face. I think the whole lot of these women are all talk and no bite.” Eve pauses in the sway, but the two of them are still tightly embraced. Would Māra let Eve protect her? Would Māra trust Eve enough? “Aren’t your feet killing you by now in those shoes?”

Mara’s not sure where Eve’s going with the whole question. But something tells Māra she had better be honest with the answer. So she nods. “Yes.”

“Mine too.” Eve pulls away for a moment, before slipping the shoes from her feet. She whistles and it immediately catches Calum’s attention. It undoubtedly catches the attention of everyone else in the vicinity. Calum stands and she waves the shoe before he catches on, hands coming up to catch them. The other stares continue--Māra sees them, stares back at those who are staring for a moment. Mothers and daughters around them all watch Eve spiral her heels--one at a time--across the dance floor to Calum waiting at their table. It’s not a deep throw, but it’s not a toss either. 

He catches them. One after another with ease. Calum doesn’t take a seat though. Eve turns to Mara. “Would you like to get rid of your shoes?”

Māra takes a look around. Let me be your shield. Is this Eve taking the hit? She was the youngest looking by several decades, the most eccentric by a mile even with Māra breaking the length requirement, and now Eve was making an utter fool of herself. But Māra nods and Eve kneels, hiking her dress up as she goes. Her hands are warm on Māra’s ankle but the strap loosen on one shoe and Māra balances on Eve’s shoulder while Eve takes the shoe from underneath her feet. The dance floor is rougher than she anticipated. Her other strap loosen too and when Eve stands, she sends Māra’s heel in a spiral down to Calum too. 

“Don’t you hate having to dance to this music too? I find it rather boring,” Eve huffs. “I mean, this artist has been dead a hundred years at least. There’s got to be something more hip to dance to.”

Māra snorts at Eve’s use of hip. Sure Mar could handle phrases like modern, up to date, but not hip. Hip is trying too hard to be cool. “Eve, I believe it’s meant to be traditional. But I do agree, rather boring,” Māra giggles. 

“I swear they gave me a fourth a chicken breast on my plate on purpose too,” Eve continues on. If Māra’s afraid of being the fool, of looking out of place, Eve will make sure she’s never looked more normal. “Was it the cook trying to tell me I’m fat? Maybe it’s Barbara being cheap.” It’s a low jab, but it does the job. 

Māra’s laughter shakes her shoulders and she pulls herself into Eve. “Thank you,” she whispers in the hug.

Eve’s warmth radiates as she hugs back. “Anytime, Māra.”

“Let’s-let’s get out of here. I think I’d rather get a quarter pounder with extra cheese than deal with this. It’s not the same with mom, and you’re great. But I think it’s okay to let it go.”

Māra finds herself rooting into Eve’s touch even when the older woman tilts her chin back. “Your mother would be proud that you tried to come even without her. I told you I’d be a poor replacement for your mother. But what I should’ve said is that I’m a poor replacement because there is no replacing your mother. She is and will always be your mother. She will always be the one to handle debutantes like a true queen. She will always be the person who taught you how to do your makeup. I’m more like the drunk aunt. I can cause quite the scene but it is never filled with grace.”

“Maybe I just need a drunk aunt, then.”

“Maybe you do. Can I be that?”

Māra nods. Her eyes are misty but she so appreciates that Eve is not looking to replace her mother. She’d said it at this point almost a year ago when they were first introduced. But it just always felt like Eve was supposed to slot into that role. Who would Māra be without her mother or a mother figure? Maybe she would just be Māra. But right now, there’s nothing that will fit the hole her mother left behind. Eve was a square peg and Māra was trying to slot her into a round hole. 

“Yeah, can you just be my drunk aunt who gets me out of this place and to a Macca’s?” Māra had grown fond of that particular Australian slang and used it no matter which crowd she was with. 

Eve’s grin makes the skin around her eyes crinkle. “It would be my honor.” Eve slips an arm around Mara’s shoulder and walks her to the edge of the dancefloor, around the deserted tables to where Calum’s seated. 

He stands as they approach, noticing the way Māra’s chin wobbles. “Sweetpea,” he coos, taking her into his chest. 

“We need a Macca’s stat,” Eve relays, slipping back into her heels and grabbing Mar’s from the floor. “We don’t have time for shoes.”

“No time for shoes?” he snickers. They had plenty of time to get shoes on, but he doesn’t debate Eve. 

“No time,” Māra agrees, but she moves over to Eve. 

Eve slips the cape off her shoulders and hands it alongside Mara’s shoes to Calum before turning so her back faces Mar. “Hop on,” she directs, squatting down just a little. Mar gives a test push Eve’s shoulder and Eve holds steady. Then Māra leaps. Eve hooks her arms behind her knee caps, the dress not seeming to be an issue for either one of them. Calum watches Eve carry Māra on her back for a few steps and then realizes they’re leaving right now. He ensures he has his keys and wallet still in his suit jacket pocket alongside all their phones in his pants pocket. Both Eve and Māra had forgone purses and while it was a lot to juggle. He’s grateful his pockets are deep on his pants. Calum half jogs to catch up. Eve doesn’t so much as waver as she passes through the auditorium’s double doors. 

Calum gets ahead and holds the building door open as well. “I still think we had plenty of time for shoes,” he returns. 

He knows he’s poking the bull maybe a little. But his heart is going wild in his chest. Eve’s grinning as she carries Māra with ease and Māra, who originally looked five seconds from tears, smiles too. He’s not sure what happened on that dancefloor. He was watching them one minute, then catching heels the next. He thought maybe it was all good and settled back down. Now, the two of them are here: Māra being carried on Eve’s back. 

Māra laughs as she bobs just a little. “But this is ten times more fun. Also, I had no clue Eve was this strong. Like she’s not even shaking carrying me.”

“No, Eve is pretty strong. Doesn’t look it, but she is.” He unlocks the car doors as they approach and helps Mara get into the car without her bare feet touching the parking lot. She accepts her shoes and Eve’s cape as well. Calum knows all too well the drill and fishes out her phone too. It clacks with all the charms attached, but at least he never has to worry if he got his phone mixed up with hers. 

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course, sweetpea. Watch the cape,” he says gently. Mar makes sure to get all of Eve’s cape into the truck and then guides the door closed. 

“What happened? Why are we leaving?” Calum questions, pausing yet again tonight on Eve’s door to open it. 

“I gave her a scapegoat,” Eve answers. “Every mother in that building is either fake or spineless. It starts with Barbara and the entire crop is spoiled because of her. She ignores me. Then makes a comment about not knowing Māra had another aunt. She gets suffocated by sympathy and then when we dance everyone is staring. I gave Māra what she needed. If she thinks they were going to gossip just because of how I looked or how I dressed, then they will surely have a field day tomorrow or next week or next meeting to talk about me. But if there’s anything I could do for your daughter, it is going to be that I could protect her. They can talk all they want about me now, but they surely won’t have anything to say about her.”

“You-you took the hit,” Calum concludes. He wondered why Eve started to throw shoes, but again, he was going to question it. Was it proper etiquette? No, even Calum knows that, but he’ll be damned if he tries to undermine Eve. 

“I’d do it again.”

He noticed the looks too. He didn’t want to say anything in the event that Māra didn’t notice them. But she had. Because of course she would notice them. They were hard to miss as everyone’s head turned in their direction time after time. It was starting to get predictable. Perhaps a fake good impression and tossed heels are the best outcome for a situation that might’ve been doomed from the start. 

But Eve had done something Calum couldn’t do. He couldn’t make everyone else in that room understand. He couldn’t make everyone else in that room stop looking. But Eve--Eve knows that when you can’t beat them, you join them. She made herself a shield so when the sword hit, it hit her. Not Māra. Of course, Māra wouldn’t be completely spared. But she’d always been protected as much as she could have been. It is not perfect. They could’ve made a quiet exit. They could’ve slipped away. The rumors would circle how Māra left during the mother-daughter dance--how sad about her grief still. But the story would be much livelier now. Māra would’ve attempted the challenge head on. They don’t need perfection when they have earnesty. 

 Calum takes Eve’s cheeks between his palms. Eve’s lips purse together just a little with the pressure. “I love you,” he whispers. “Thank you for looking out for Māra. Thank you for being there when I couldn’t. Thank you for doing the things I can't do sometimes.” Like causing a scene on purpose. Like calling Barbara out for what she is. Like giving Māra the space to take something head on, fail, but still have fun. 

Eve wraps her fingers around Calum’s wrists, and squeezes. “I love you. I do it with honor. Always.”

The kiss is short--in all relative time, they’re lips are not together longer than a few seconds. But the window’s motor whirs and the glass slides down. “I love love,” Māra teases, leaning her head out of the window.

Eve is the first one to break in the kiss. Her laughter shakes her and she turns ever so slightly to look at Māra. “Are we talking too long?”

“No, no, now that I’m out of the dance. I don’t really care. But I do want that quarter pounder.”

Calum laughs next. It was Māra’s way of saying at least some time tonight. He presses two more kisses to Eve’s cheek and then pulls away to open the passenger side door for Eve. “Okay, Macca’s. Got it. We’re going. I’m clearly way too distracted for Mar’s taste.”

Māra holds the greasy brown bag securely in her lap, rustling through the items stacked inside. “Three fries. Two burgers. One ten piece nugget with barbecue sauce,” she calls out. 

“I have one sweet seat, one coke, one bottle of water,” Eve rattles off. Satisfied none of their items are missing, Calum nods and then sets off back for the house. 

The night is thick, but the crinkle of the bag in Māra’s hand as she walks up the front steps is enough to cut through it. It feels a little less suffocating for Māra now. The balls would be too full of her mother. Everyone there would still be comparing something that had been lost and never gained again. Pointless for them to circle around because Māra’s not there anymore. She’s not sure where she is, but she knows where she is not. Māra is not the same girl to go to balls with her mother anymore. Māra might be the girl to dress in fancy clothes and get burgers. She might be the girl to call up Eve just to complain. She night the girl who still misses her mother but can let the miss wash over and ride through, but not consume. 

The trio of them don’t make it further than the couch. Eve does make a run to the linen closet to grab some towels for Calum and Māra. The last thing she wants for them is to get ketchup on their white clothes. But she makes quick work to come back to the couch in the end. Māra pats the cushion next to her and Eve holds out a towel before settling down. 

There are few words as they work down their respective meals until Māra sucks down another sip of her coke. “Hey, Eve?”

“Yes, Māra?” Eve returns, polishing off the last of her nuggets. 

“What’s your workout regime? I wanna be buff too.”

“It starts when you piss off God.”

[she-ra-ra-skirt]

Ok story time. I'll warn you now that I talk in general terms about abusive relationships and how they affected me, again in general terms. You can read this paragraph because I will end it by saying I am safe, happy and thriving and I hope the same for you.

So I met my ex when I was young and in a shitty situation at home, and I needed to get out, so I jumped at the chance to get together with him.

He was 5 years older than me and seemed so charming and sophisticated and everything I needed in a man, calm, kind and generous but it was all bullshit. Slowly, over time, well, after we had got married and he'd trapped me, it deteriorated into a coercive, controlling relationship. I wouldn't even call it a relationship, just a situation I was in.

After many, many years, I got a new job with good pay and met some amazing, lovely supportive people and knew I had to leave to save myself. It was also the year that a Act came into law in the UK that recognised coercive control and a woman successfully got her husband charged with it, so I knew it would be taken seriously as it's so hard to get proof of being controlled.

Anyway, I left with just the clothes I stood up in, and yes, that is an expression you read in books but you don't know what it's like until you literally only have the clothes on your back. Anyway, I moved to somewhere safe and even with my crushingly low confidence and self esteem, I hung onto my job as I needed something consistent in my life and to see the people I was friends with.

Covid hit and with it lockdowns that, well, really messed with my head but at least I lived safely on my own and I got through it.

Whilst at work, I wanted something easy to do so I begged for some easy work even though I usually got complicated stuff, due to being experienced. I have to say, as soon as I got it, I regretted it, as it was actually quite boring! Yeah, you can't win with me, so I kept my mouth shut and did the best I could with it.

There was a consultant who had put in the application that I was working and I was on sick leave when he rang and I answered the phone, not telling him I was off sick as I really liked his voice. Well, we talked for 2 hours and I was enraptured.

It turns out he was too, so we phoned and text a lot during lockdown and really got to know each other. Geographically we live miles apart from each other but we were both single and got on so very well, that we quickly became friends. And then he asked me out and I said yes!

I told him all about what happened to me and he was super supportive and it was exactly what I needed and I slowly but surely fell in love with him.

Now I'm Generation X, but I do believe people can get to really know each other through technology and that what we have is a 'proper' relationship unlike my Boomer parents. So for years, we've been backwards and forwards and really getting to know each other. He had to sell his house that he owned with his ex before he'd move things forward with me, so it's ben years and I adore that man so much, I could get very mushy about him right now, but won't.

He sold his house at the start of this year but I've been finishing off my therapies for the abusive relationship, so we haven't physically met yet but we want to. Well, last month he invited me to visit him and stay with him in a fancy hotel whilst he's away with work. So it's somewhere neutral and that he thinks will impress me, which I'm really not bothered about, but he is. I'm soooo excited.

The thing is, that it's at the end of next month and I'm getting really nervous about it. I have put safety measure in place so I can just look forward to meeting him, but still, my nerves are building.

I know we'll get on in person exactly as we do online so that's not a worry but it feels like things will suddenly move forward for us.

I do believe in marriage, despite my last one being shitty and it's important to me to have his last name, as I changed all my names, first, middle and last so my ex husband can't find me. It's therefore important to me to change my name to the same as his to show that we're a family and I want to share my whole life with him. I know he wants me to take his name so that we are more...I don't know, a couple together. He thinks names aren't that important and you should 'wear your name lightly' as Terry Pratchett said, but to me it's the opposite. I chose my name and it means the world to me, and I really want to take his so that I feel like I've really connected my life to his and I'm proud to tell everyone that I'm his wife.

So yeah, I also really like sparkly rings so I'm hoping for a lab grown diamond ring and a romantic proposal, although I won't get my hopes up. although it is too late if I'm honest, ha, as I've said I'll move into somewhere rented with him whilst we decide where to live permanently. Rented isn't such a big commitment as I could move out if things went wrong, even though I know they won't.

So after the worst period of my life, where I met this amazing man who helped me through it and asked for nothing in return, I'm about to get my romantic fiction book ending. Where we get married and live together and have a soft, gentle home where everyone is welcome and where I'll have a little sign saying 'leave your armour at the door' as it won't ever be needed in my house.

I'm so excited for my future and I've been planning my wedding on Pinterest. Although my friend pointed out I've been planning it for a long as she's known me and I was still married to my ex husband at the time heh heh.

I wanted to say this out loud, well in writing anyway, as it makes it real and I can feel how happy and relaxed I feel about being with him, which means it's the right thing for me.

[brutaliv]

A giggle left Olivia's lips, feeling slightly silly that she thought he was worried about her drowning, while his actual concern was much more understandable. The brunette did as she was told and allowed her boyfriend to take care of her. Olivia herself was such a caring person and was so used to be the one who put others first, whether it was a friend who was going through a breakup or just someone who was having a bad day and needed a little pick-me-up. Liv melted into Luke's arms as he pulled her in for a kiss. Even if it was just a quick peck, butterflies fluttered in her torso whenever their lips met. Olivia couldn't help the laugh that spilled from her mouth as Luke paid extra attention to her boobs. She wasn't complaining. She loved how much her boyfriend loved her body, especially her boobs. "Babe, I think my tits are clean enough!" Her eyes fluttered shut as she allowed him to scrub off the remainder of her makeup. When her eyes opened she gazed right into Luke's, letting out a content sigh as he softly stroked her cheek. She was just a puddle of mush whenever she gazed into those gorgeous ocean blue eyes. Liv nodded her head as she held onto him for support while stepping out of the shower. The brunette ruffled her long locks with the fresh towel, doing her best to wring as much water out as possible. She wrapped the other towel around her body, while catching glimpse of her boyfriend stripping down on the other side of the bathroom. She had been so concerned with keeping her balance and focusing on the shower, that she hadn't realized that Luke had jumped in after her with all of his clothes on. Her teeth grasped onto her bottom lip as she eyed the blonde up and down, taking in every last detail of the body she had come to know just as well as her own over the past few months. That wasn't the only thing she had gotten to know about the Australian. He had the kindest heart, the sweetest soul, and he had truly become her best friend over the course of knowing one another. He was the first person she wanted to talk to when she woke up in the morning and the last one before she drifted off to sleep. She was shaken from her thoughts as Luke spoke. "Thank you, baby," she said with a smile as she slipped into her PJs, which consisted of a pair of shorts and one of Luke's t-shirts she had stolen and loved to sleep in.

After brushing her teeth and tying up her hair, Olivia sunk into bed feeling almost like a new person. The alcohol was still pumping through her bloodstream, but she didn't feel as gross and uncomfortable as she did while getting sick. She reached out for her boyfriend as he slid into bed next to her. Liv scooted closer to him, throwing her arms over his chest and nuzzling into the safety that was the crook of his arm. Her brown doe eyes adoringly gazed up at him as her hand came up to rest of his cheek. Her thumb stroked against the rough stubble that had grown along his jawline. "I love you. So much," she softly spoke before gently pressing her lips to his.

Watching Olivia somewhat amused him - her reactions to everything going on was interesting. He didn't care about his clothes getting wet - would of it been easier to strip down himself? Certainly. But there were other times he could enjoy a shower with his girlfriend. "I'm not worried about you drowning, Liv. You can barely stand up yourself." He bit his lower lip, looking down at her. "I'm worried about you hurting yourself." The blonde admitted. "Now, sh and let me take care of you." Giving Olivia a quick kiss. He was always someone who wanted to take care of the people around him - and the other musician was no exception - he cared deeply about Olivia. Luke didn't really see himself dating someone so soon after his divorce, and she was always taking him by surprise. He loved how carefree about life Olivia was. Grabbing the soap, Luke made quick work of helping her - his focus maybe a little long on her boobs, which he figured he couldn't be blamed for. He always liked touching them. The Australian took extra care of getting her make up off, knowing how it felt the next morning to wake up even with a slight hint of it on. His hand rested on her cheek for a moment, thumb brushing along her skin softly. "Ready for bed?" He questioned, switching the water off. Stepping out of the shower, he helped Olivia to once again keep her balance. Handing her some towels, Luke quickly tried his best to try himself off. Taking his shirt and pants off finally, he tossed them to the side - keeping himself in his underwear. Towel wrapping around him, Luke guided the brunette to their bed. "PJs ready for you, love. And your head is going to hurt in the morning, so I'm preparing myself mentally already to hear all about it." Although he had taken care of her, and wanted to keep her safe, the teasing element of their relationship wasn't going to disappear.

[chuuyrr]

I love your scarlett baby series!! can I request gojo being too overprotective with teenage reader and she ending up screaming "I hate you" at him cause she feels overwhelmed by his behavior when gojo just worries for her and wants her safe :((( I want it really angsty pls

thank u and have a good day/night 💞

dad! gojo being too overprotective with scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader

jujutsu kaisen x reader

masterlist of the series

warning(s): angsty angst, screaming, use of strong language, dad! gojo being too overprotective and controlling, scarlet fushiguro snapping and breaking down, no comfort :)

i'm glad you're loving the series anon, thank you for requesting!! god this request hurts me so bad :( i don't myself good in writing angsts, but i hope this one is angsty enough. im not sure if i can say happy/enjoy reading, so um happy hurting ??? 👁👄👁

ever since you reached your adolescence years, gojo had become extra protective of you. inheriting your biological father's look and being the scarlet witch, you grew up to be a beauty and because of that, you were beginning to attract boys and even girls your age, and apart from that, your chaos magic had gotten much stronger compared to when you were a baby which inevitably activated gojo's 'overprotective dad mode' a bit too much.

gojo became paranoid, especially now that you were a teenager who frequently went out after school and came home late. he figured that the only way to protect and keep his baby safe was to control you. he didn't want to lose you. his fear of finding you hurt, kidnapped or worse got the best of him.

at first, it wasn't so bad. gojo just set you curfews and asked for regular text updates from you whenever you were away but it gradually got worse.

gojo started to restrict you from going out, began to pick you up at school consistently and bug you about who were talking to on your phone when he catches you smiling and laughing. you couldn't even talk and hang out with your friends anymore because of him.

as his controlling and overprotective behavior persisted, you were getting fed up until one day you had finally had enough and snapped. you couldn't take it anymore, you felt like a caged bird from all this rules and shit. everything was overwhelming, you couldn't even do anything more without being unnecessarily reprimanded.

"dad! all my friends are going out and i'm the only one who's not coming!" you tried to reason with gojo, "please, it'll just be a one night sleepover!"

"i already told you, [name]. a no is a no." gojo answered you sternly. "why can't you understand that?"

"no, it's you who can't understand!" you bit back.

"excuse me?" gojo pushed down his blindfold to look at you straight in the eye with his crystalline blue ones.

"you don't trust me, that's that! you don't love me either. because if you really did, you wouldn't be doing any of this."

tears pricked against your eyes and it didn't take long for you see red both literally and figuratively. "i'm sick and tired of you controlling me! you never let me do anything anymore!"

"watch your tone, young lady. i'm only doing this to protect you!" gojo raised his voice, slightly in disbelief at how you were raising your tone at him.

"protect me? i'm not a little kid anymore! i don't need you to protect me. i'm literally the scarlet witch and i know how to look after myself!" you stomped your foot, angrily scowling. "if anything, i'm stronger than you are!"

"well, to me you are still a little kid! especially with the way you're acting right now!" gojo was now yelling just as you are. "this isn't about who's stronger, [name]. we're talking about your safety. i just care about you!"

"you've done nothing but make me feel like a caged bird! i just want to be free for once! if anything, i don't feel safe at all anymore because of you! you don't care about me or my happiness either!"

breaking down, you slammed your trembling closed fists down to your side, an intense energy emerged from your body and trembled the entire house, causing all the furnitures and house trinkets to fall and get thrashed from your power.

"i hate you! i hate you! i hate you!" you screamed repeatedly, tears rolling down your face.

"[name]! stop right this instant!"

gojo was now alarmed by your immense power that was gradually increasing. everything was now floating, a thick tension hung in the air as you proceeded to wreak havoc. "you listen to me!"

"you listen to me, gojo satoru! i am not your daughter! you're not even my real father, so stop telling me what i should do! i've had enough of you controlling my life!"

with that, you fled the house and left everything in chaos—including your father who stood there frozen from shock upon hearing your very words.

gojo fucked up, he really fucked up. guilt painfully racked him straight in the stomach as he took in your spiteful words, recalling how you felt like a caged bird with all his controlling and overprotective behavior. he didn't mean to overwhelm you or make you feel like that all. all he wanted was to keep you safe, but his worries got the best of him and he went too far that he hurt you.

you were right about everything though, no matter how painful it was. gojo was not your father, he never was. you didn't even carry his name, you still carried your biological's father surname. if anything, he broke your father's promise. gojo had failed to care for you with love. this wasn't love. love wasn't supposed to hurt.

you ended up fleeing into a secluded area that was far from home. unable to supress the ache in your chest, you choked out whimpers and painful sobs as you curled up into a ball. your hands tightly grasped the fabric of your sleeves, your nails digging harshly that you could feel prick against your skin. everything in your vision was red and blurry from all the fresh hot tears that welled in your eyes.

you were stricken with so much pain that you didn't even realize that everything around you became in shambles from your chaos magic similarly with how you thrashed your home, no gojo's house—it wasn't your home anymore—before you left. somehow, you had forgotten that was linked with your emotions. all of it was just red, a painful red. eventually, you became numb. too numb to even inch a muscle and get up from where you ended up.

it took gojo a day to find where you were and when he did, you were still angry at him. you lashed out all your anger and frustrations at him, sending him projectiles of red psionics that tried to claw him to pieces—which would have worked if he didn't have his infinity on.

"[name].. listen to me.." gojo attempted to reason with you, his voice was softspoken unlike before.

"no! i hate you! i don't need you!" you cried out, your eyes glowing an immensely red color, venom seething through your teeth.

"please, come home." gojo tried once again.

shaking your head, you crumbled. you had finally stopped lashing red psionics at his way and sobbed, falling on your knees. "i hate you.. i don't want to go home.."

you hiccuped pitifully, sniffling all over again. "..i don't want to go back not with you."

with your walls weakened, gojo managed to wrap his arms around you and pull you into his embrace, breaking down his infinity to hold you. you thrashed for a while, struggling to push him away with your clammy hands. you were so vulnerable that your physical strength was rendered useless.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry."

gojo repeated, continuing to hold you as you squirmed to get away from him. "kikufuku, please come home. i'm sorry, please."

"i hate you.." you muttered out weakly, feeling exhaustion catching up to you, shaking your head.

you rested your head against the crook of his shoulder and proceeded to cry. gojo rubbed shapes on your back as you broke down, remorse weighted on his shoulders when he heard your sniffles and felt your body hitch with each sob. what has he done?

"we'll fix this, please let me fix everything, baby." gojo pleaded. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to overwhelm you. it's my fault, all of it."

"you hurt me." you grasped the fabric of his clothes from his back, your nails grazing. "it hurts you know."

"i know, kikufuku. i'm so sorry. i'm sorry. i'll change, i'll make it up to you. just please come home, i can't lose you."

gojo cradled you his arms, coddling you in his embrace desperately. he really wanted to fix what he broke. he didn't mean to sabotage your father-daughter relationship with him. he didn't mean to hurt you like this.

"i just wanted to keep you safe, to protect you but i went too far."

you two stayed like that together, with you his arms. your heart was still conflicted and hurting, and at the same time, you thought about the spiteful words you spat out to him earlier. you didn't mean any of them, just like how gojo didn't mean to hurt you. looks like the two of you were just as even.

you closed your eyes shut as your sobbing slowly subsided. all you could ever wish right now was to be a little kid again, then maybe none of this would have happened. you wanted to go back to the way things used to be with your dad, but not right now. you couldn't find it your heart to forgive him just yet, you needed some time to think.

[courtlyharlequin]

Gotta say I love your writing!! It’s just absolutely wonderful and I can’t wait to see more of it ^-^ May I request some head cannons of the dorm leaders reacting to their S/O fainting suddenly from overworking themselves?

Rest Easy

A/N: Hello~ thank you for requesting. I’m glad you like my writing! This honestly means a lot to me. I’m sorry this took so long to write, but thank you for your patience. I hope it’s up to par ^^

Riddle Rosehearts:

He was completely caught off guard. You were walking next to him one moment and now you were on the ground. He drops whatever he’s holding and rushes to your side. He calls your name out several times in a firm yet worried tone. Riddle also makes sure to check your breathing as well. A relieved sigh escapes his lips

The redhead slings your arm around his shoulder and drags you to the infirmary. He struggles a bit to say the least. He was lugging an unconscious person to the other side of the school, but he digresses as your health and safety is a priority at the moment

Riddle lets the staff tend to you and waits by your side. He holds your hand, playing with your fingertips and finding himself staring out the window. His eyebrows are furrowed. He’s your boyfriend, your significant other, yet he was so caught up in his studies and duties as a prefect that he didn’t see the signs

By the time you wake up, he’s fallen asleep at your bedside. You card your fingers through his hair and his lashes flutter

“You worried me.”

You two talk for a bit about your health. It mainly consisted of Riddle lovingly scolding you for not taking better for yourself

Leona Kingscholar:

He sensed something off about you that day. Your eye bags were dark and deep. He shrugged it off because you told him you stayed up a tad too late to catch up on homework

When hanging around in his room afterschool, you fainted. You were sitting at his desk and he was seated at the edge of his bed. You were babbling about your history classes, but Leona could tell you were trying to hold on to your consciousness

Eventually, you fainted. He clicks his tongue before lunging towards you, wrapping his arm around your waist, catching you before you fell onto the floor

He lays you on his bed before going to find a glass of water for you

Leona comes back with the glass, but also a bowl of water and a wet towel too. He places the towel onto your head. Now, all he can do is wait. You’re breathing. You’re fine– just overworked, but it’s only a matter of time before you wake

When you gain consciousness, he just lets you talk. He hugs you if you need him to, running a hand through your hair. There’s the occasional forehead kiss as well. He’s quiet for the most part, but he’ll admit you worried him

After you promise to take better care of yourself, he climbs onto the bed and drapes the blanket over the both of you, telling you to get some more sleep. He won’t let you go until you’re well rested

Azul Ashengrotto:

Like Riddle, Azul panics, rushing to your side and calling out your name. He firmly shakes your shoulder. With no response, he scopes you up in his arms and carries you to the Octavinelle dormitory

There, he tends to you. He lays you on your back and raises your legs to help blood flow to your head. He takes off your shoes and loosens your tie– anything to make your recovery more comfortable

He’s honestly very worried but he knows that if he panics, he might be doing more harm than good

You regain your consciousness quickly, but he’s not letting you walk away from him without proper rest. Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing. You’re overworked and you just fainted!

He listens to your troubles and offers you some advice as someone who’s always busy too. He offers to help you with your work if it’ll lighten the load in exchange that you’ll rest properly

Can’t have you faint on him again, now can we?

Kalim Al-Asim:

He invited you over to Scarabia to let loose after exams. He knows you’ve been working hard as of late so he wanted you to relax with a small banquet, filling food and feel-good vibes. Kalim nearly drops his drink after hearing a loud thud. He turns around to see your lifeless figure on the floor

His eyes widened as he rushed to your side. Students crowd around you both; he can hear their distant whispers. His heartbeat rings throughout his ears, muffling their voices.  He sighs when he sees your chest rise and fall

Kalim isn’t quite sure exactly what to do. His thoughts are all over the place, but he knows that he should get you out of her quickly. He could save the questions for later.

He slings your arm around his shoulder. He crosses paths with Jamil on his way to the bedroom. He gives him a silent nod. The vice prefect quickened his pace and tends to the common room

The prefect ushers you onto his bed and turns on the fan. He isn’t familiar with fainting, but he is familiar with tending to someone who’s unconscious. Jamil has been poisoned a handful of times on his behalf and he’s seen the maids tend to him. While you don’t need an antidote, you need to be laid on your back and have anything tight loosened. He places your feet on a tower of pillows, redirecting your blood flow to your head

When you wake, he embraces you wholeheartedly. Kalim refrains from bombarding you with questions as to why you fainted albeit he is thankful that you told him out of your own volition. He’ll definitely offer to do something lighthearted together to ease your mind. How about a game of mancala?

Vil Schoenheit:

He was already scolding you for overworking yourself. You can’t hide those eye bags from him. He’s been doing his best to keep you in check– making sure you eat three meals a day and sleep on time. However, you have to meet him halfway

Vil’s breath hitches as he sees your figure fall towards the ground. Luckily, he catches you by the wrist, pulling you close to him before gently laying you on your back.

He tries to compose himself, but that nearly gave him a heart attack. Sure, he knew about your workload, but he didn’t expect you to faint

He brushes his feelings aside to tend to you. Your health is most important to him as of now. He’s not unfamiliar with fainting. Fortunately, Vil has never fainted himself, but he’s had his share of fainting incidents. His colleagues often fainted due to overworking as well

Honestly… what was he going to do with you? He shakes his head as he checks for your pulse and breathing. He doesn’t hesitate to search up ways to help someone when fainting. He wants to take care of you thoroughly and to the best of his abilities. He may have witnessed others tend to an individual who has fainted, but he’s no expert

Be prepared for an earful when you wake up. Vil has a lot to say to you. You should be taking care of yourself. Know your limits. You can’t put forth your best efforts if you’re dead tired. He plans a self care day for you both

No if’s, and’s, or but’s. You’re going to rest. Vil understands the need to overexert yourself, going the extra mile for your work, your passions, but there’s a limit. Success comes from resting as much as it comes from hard work. Cut yourself some slack, Fairest

Idia Shroud:

It’s a miracle Idia didn’t faint himself. He’s scared out of his mind. Are you alright? A thousand thoughts race through his mind. What happened? You were fine a moment ago! Please don’t tell him you just died on the spot. Or worse– possessed by a ghost?!

Worst case scenarios flood his mind. Some of them are completely irrational, but he doesn’t consider that. Anything is possible

He mutters your name under his breath repeatedly as he shakes your shoulder. Each time, his voice grows louder and louder

Idia runs to get some help. He returns with Ortho who scans your lifeless figure, confirming that you are indeed alive, just overworked and exhausted. He urges his brother to carry you back to Ignihyde to let you rest properly. The floor isn’t comfortable for humans

Reluctantly, he drags you back to his room. He stays by your side. He holds your hand while playing a game. The poor prefect nearly drops his phone when you squeeze his hand, letting him know you’re awake

Idia starts rambling. He was worried sick! His stammering comes to a halt when you kiss him on the cheek as thanks

In turn, he buries his head into the crook of your neck. He’s red to the tips of his ears now. He honestly didn’t do much. He wishes he could have done more to lighten your workload to be honest

Nevertheless, Idia puts on a brave face for you and crawls into the bed with you

Malleus Draconia:

Color him surprised. You were standing and then you weren’t. He turned around once he heard a loud thud only to find you on the floor. At first, he thought you had tripped over your own feet. You were a klutzy beastie after all. It wouldn't be the first time this happened. He found it endearing

Malleus chuckled as he crouched down to offer you a hand. He blinked twice when you didn’t take his hand. You didn’t even say a word. He pokes your cheek and cocks his head

“(y/n)?”

Still no response. Now he’s worried. What happened to you? You were still breathing, but you weren’t awake. Have you fallen asleep? But in broad daylight… He brushes your hair aside to examine your face. You did have dark circles, but he doesn’t believe that would be the cause of this. You would have yawned more frequently

Well, no matter. It would be best to get you to bed. Leaving you in the hallway wasn’t  a viable option. You would certainly be more comfortable on a mattress

He sighs as he scoops you up in his arms and teleports to his bedroom

There, he lays you on his bed, tucking you in snugly. Malleus places a gentle kiss on your forehead

He waits by your side. If you show signs of distress in your slumber, then he might enchant your dreams with a little bit of magic to make you sleep more comfortably

When you wake, Malleus will lend you an ear to listen to your troubles. If you insist on going back to your work, then he’ll sit you back down and prop open a book and begins reading. You find yourself slowly falling asleep

[therenlover]

Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!

Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!

This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut

A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!

I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.

If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.

Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently

 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character

Marvel/X-Men

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Peter Maximoff 💙

Pietro Maximoff

Helmut Zemo 💙

Hank McCoy

Ralph Bohner 💙

Vision

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker 💙

Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)

Jimmy Darling 💙

James Patrick March 💙

Kai Anderson

Fallout 4

Nick Valentine

Hancock

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux 💙

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo

Finn

Han Solo

Assorted/Random

Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO

Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO

Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙

Enjolras - Les Miserables

Grantaire - Les Miserables

Gabriel - Supernatural

Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED

Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt

Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff

Rating: T

Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED

Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons

Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons

Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons

Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED

Marvel/X-Men

Helmut Zemo

One Last Night In Madripoor

Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 4200~

Still Some Catching Up To Do

Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 6800~

Nine Years Starved

Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.

Rating: G

Word Count: 7000~

Daddy Dearest

Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 8000~

In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs

Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four

Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 35,700~

Two Bodies In The Rain

Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5600~

Rest

Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.

Rating: T

Word Count: 3200~

American Horror Story

Jimmy Darling

Red Nights In Jupiter

Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3000~

James Patrick March

Heartsick

Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.

Rating: 16+

Word Count: 3700~

In Sickness And In Health

Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 5500~

Fallout 4

Currently Empty

Star Wars

Currently Empty

Assorted/Random

Currently Empty

Long Form Works/Series

Young Artist!Zemo AU

Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel

Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.

Rating: T

Word Count: 7000~

Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)

Chapter One: Welcome Home

Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2400~

Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In

Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?

Rating: T

Word Count: 2800~

Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You

Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.

Rating: T

Word Count: 8600~

Chapter Four: Before You Go

Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?

Rating: T

Word Count: 4000~

Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze

Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.

Rating: T

Word Count; 2600~

Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!

Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake

Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!

I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!

[katnissmellarkkk]

Elllow! Today’s bookcomb consists of Peeta being protective of Katniss. Could have been much more implied moments but here’s some explicit ones 🤗

-

But it’s too late to run. I pull a slimy arrow from the sheath and try to position it on the bowstring but instead of one string I see three and the stench from the stings is so repulsive I can’t do it. I can’t do it. I can’t do it.

I’m helpless as the first hunter crashes through the trees, spear lifted, poised to throw. The shock on Peeta’s face makes no sense to me. I wait for the blow. Instead his arm drops to his side.

“What are you still doing here?” he hisses at me. I stare uncomprehendingly as a trickle of water drips off a sting under his ear. His whole body starts sparkling as if he’s been dipped in dew. “Are you mad?” He’s prodding me with the shaft of the spear now. “Get up! Get up!” I rise, but he’s still pushing at me. What? What is going on? He shoves me away from him hard. “Run!” he screams. “Run!”

-

I trip and fall into a small pit lined with tiny orange bubbles that hum like the tracker jacker nest. Tucking my knees up to my chin, I wait for death.

Sick and disoriented, I’m able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.

-

I jump as Peeta grips my shoulder from behind. “No,” he says. “You’re not risking your life for me.”

“Who said I was?” I say.

“So, you’re not going?” he asks.

“Of course, I’m not going. Give me some credit.”

-

Anger flushes my face. “All right, I am going, and you can’t stop me!”

“I can follow you. At least partway. I may not make it to the Cornucopia, but if I’m yelling your name, I bet someone can find me. And then I’ll be dead for sure,” he says.

“You won’t get a hundred yards from here on that leg,” I say.

“Then I’ll drag myself,” says Peeta. “You go and I’m going, too.”

-

“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building.

-

Peeta steps up on a crate against the wall of the sweetshop and offers me a hand while he scans the square. I’m halfway up when he suddenly blocks my way. “Get down. Get out of here!” He’s whispering, but his voice is harsh with insistence.

“What?” I say, trying to force my way back up.

“Go home, Katniss! I’ll be there in a minute, I swear!” he says.

-

“He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man.

“He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”

-

When we’re outside, I turn to Peeta. “You go on back. I want to walk by the Hob.”

“I’ll go with you,” he says.

“No. I’ve dragged you into enough trouble,” I tell him.

“And avoiding a stroll by the Hob . . . that’s going to fix things for me?” He smiles and takes my hand. Together we wind through the streets of the Seam until we reach the burning building.

-

“Peeta’s argument is that since I chose you, I now owe him. Anything he wants. And what he wants is the chance to go in again to protect you,” says Haymitch.

I knew it. In this way, Peeta’s not hard to predict. While I was wallowing around on the floor of that cellar, thinking only of myself, he was here, thinking only of me. Shame isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel.

“You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, you know,” Haymitch says.

“Yeah, yeah,” I say brusquely. “No question, he’s the superior one in this trio. So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Haymitch sighs. “Go back in with you maybe, if I can. If my name’s drawn at the reaping, it won’t matter. He’ll just volunteer to take my place.”

-

The reaping takes only a minute. Effie, shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girls’ reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one piece of paper that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.

-

“And I’m not saying I’m not going to try. To get you home, I mean. But if I’m perfectly honest about it. . .”

“If you’re perfectly honest about it, you think President Snow has probably given them direct orders to make sure we die in the arena anyway,” I say.

“It’s crossed my mind,” says Peeta.

-

I check over my weapons, which I know are in perfect condition, because it makes me seem more in control. “I’ll take the lead,” I announce.

Peeta starts to object but Finnick cuts him off. “No, let her do it.”

-

No one’s thrilled with the idea of me going off alone, but the threat of dehydration hangs over us.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go far,” I promise Peeta.

“I’ll go, too,” he says.

“No, I’m going to do some hunting if I can,” I tell him. I don’t add, “And you can’t come because you’re too loud.” But it’s implied. He would both scare off prey and endanger me with his heavy tread. “I won’t be long.”

-

Nothing. I find nothing. Not so much as a dewdrop. Eventually, because I know Peeta will be worried about me, I head back to the camp, hotter and more frustrated than ever.

-

I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently.

-

While Johanna collects water and my arrows, Beetee fiddles with his wire, and Finnick takes to the water. I need to clean up, too, but I stay in Peeta’s arms, still too shaken to move.

-

This is when Beetee reveals the rest of the plan. Since we move most swiftly through the trees, he wants Johanna and me to take the coil down through the jungle, unwinding the wire as we go. We are to lay it across the twelve o’clock beach and drop the metal spool, with whatever is left, deep into the water, making sure it sinks. Then run for the jungle. If we go now, right now, we should make it to safety.

“I want to go with them as a guard,” Peeta says immediately. After the moment with the pearl, I know he’s less willing than ever to let me out of his sight.

-

I’m so light-headed I’ll black out in a matter of minutes. I’ve got to get away from this tree and —

“Katniss!” I hear his voice though he’s a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. “Katniss!”

-

Caesar leans in to him a little. “I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive.”

“That was it. Clear and simple.” Peeta’s fingers trace the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair.

-

A hush has fallen over the room, and I can feel it spreading across Panem. A nation leaning in toward its screens. Because no one has ever talked about what it’s really like in the arena before.

Peeta goes on. “So you hold on to your wish. And that last night, yes, my wish was to save Katniss.”

-

“When that wire was cut, everything just went insane. I can only remember bits and pieces. Trying to find her. Watching Brutus kill Chaff. Killing Brutus myself. I know she was calling my name. Then the lightning bolt hit the tree, and the force field around the arena . . . blew out.”

“Katniss blew it out, Peeta,” says Caesar. “You’ve seen the footage.”

“She didn’t know what she was doing. None of us could follow Beetee’s plan. You can see her trying to figure out what to do with that wire,” Peeta snaps back.

-

Peeta’s on his feet, leaning in to Caesar’s face, hands locked on the arms of his interviewer’s chair. “Really? And was it part of her plan for Johanna to nearly kill her? For that electric shock to paralyze her? To trigger the bombing?” He’s yelling now. “She didn’t know, Caesar! Neither of us knew anything except that we were trying to keep each other alive!”

Caesar places his hand on Peeta’s chest in a gesture that’s both self-protective and conciliatory. “Okay, Peeta, I believe you.”

-

Gale’s expression darkens. “Peeta might have done a lot of damage tonight. Most of the rebels will dismiss what he said immediately, of course. But there are districts where the resistance is shakier. The cease-fire’s clearly President Snow’s idea. But it seems so reasonable coming out of Peeta’s mouth.”

I’m afraid of Gale’s answer, but I ask anyway. “Why do you think he said it?”

“He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He’d put forth the idea of the cease-fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there’s still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right.” I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. “Katniss . . . he’s still trying to keep you alive.”

To keep me alive? And then I understand. The Games are still on. We have left the arena, but since Peeta and I weren’t killed, his last wish to preserve my life still stands. His idea is to have me lie low, remain safe and imprisoned, while the war plays out. Then neither side will really have cause to kill me. And Peeta? If the rebels win, it will be disastrous for him. If the Capitol wins, who knows? Maybe we’ll both be allowed to live — if I play it right — to watch the Games go on. . . .

-

Caesar and Peeta have a few empty exchanges before Caesar asks him about rumors that I’m taping propos for the districts.

“They’re using her, obviously,” says Peeta. “To whip up the rebels. I doubt she even really knows what’s going on in the war. What’s at stake.”

-

He asks Peeta if, given tonight’s demonstration, he has any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen.

At the mention of my name, Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . .” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning!”

-

“Katniss!” He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. “Katniss! Get out of here!”

I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. “Why? What’s making that sound?”

“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you,” says Peeta. “Run! Get out! Go!”

-

[amethystpath-writes]

You Can’t Be Here

NOT A PR0MPT

Could you do a villain who just had surgery. Hero gets him out of the hospital the minute he is out of surgery because she is worried or something. But at her home, he is all drugged up, delirious and scared.

******

Where am I? Where am I? Villain knew he was in the hospital before, but now…now…now. He wasn’t in the hospital- not where he was supposed to be. Not where Supervillain wanted him.

Unless…was this Supervillain’s home? Had he finished the procedure and wanted Villain to be relocated afterwards? Where am I? Supervillain’s home, or- or lab, monastery (as if), whatever it was, wherever Villain was, it belonged to Supervillain; it must have.

“Villain. Villain, hey, you’re awake. Here-”

The voice was familiar, but not familiar enough in Villain’s state. Drugs. He had been drugged before the surgery. They must have been still wearing off. “No,” Villain groaned lowly, tiredly. His ribs were hurting so badly; there was no way he could go through another surgery already.

“Here, I brought you some water; you need to get hydrated or else you’ll get sick.”

Did Supervillain give him a new nurse? Did the other one do something wrong?

“Hey, listen to me. Listen to me, Villain. It’s me. It’s Hero, alright? There was- there was a report on the television, on the news. What happened?”

What hap- Hero? No. No, that wasn’t possible at all, now was it? Hero couldn’t be with Villain, because if she were with Villain then that meant Supervillain would-

“You can’t be here. You can’t be here, Hero. You can’t. You can’t be here. You can’t be here.” His mind was a frenzy, one which wouldn’t stop. There were sharks in his head, his brain the chum being torn to shreds. Goodness, it hurt, but Villain didn’t care. He needed to tell Hero- needed her to know that she needed to leave. Leave while she was still in good health.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re not at the hospital anymore. We’re at my place, okay? Nothing- nothing is happening, Villain, but I need you to drink some water.” Please.

Hero’s voice was becoming more worried, Villain could tell, but why? It must have been because Supervillain was returning. Maybe Hero wanted Villain awake so he could prepare her for what would happen if she couldn’t escape before Supervillain collected her for a procedure.

“If you’re lucky, they’ll numb you first,” Villain muttered.

“What?”

“It isn’t so bad when they do that, but…but when they don’t-” He couldn’t finish. “It’s okay. It’ll be fine.” But Villain wasn’t sure whether he was talking to himself or Hero at this point. He was just as worried for himself as her. It was selfish, btu Villain couldn’t help being sorry and scared for himself. “Don’t hold your breath when it begins. It will make it harder to think about anything else.”

“What are you- Villain, tell me why you were in the hospital. Tell me, please.”

He couldn’t do that- because doing that would make Hero panic, and panicking was terrible before the surgeries. Of course, they would usually put one to sleep beforehand, but not always- and certainly not for one’s first procedure. Supervillain wanted everyone to know what he was capable of if one didn’t cooperate.

“Villain. I just want to help. Please help me understand what happened to you so that I can help, Villain.”

“He’s targeting self-healers.”

Who were the self-healers? Very few people in the world possessed such a spectacular ability. Both Villain and Hero just so happened to be a part of these few unfortunate people.

Unfortunate.

It shouldn’t have been unfortunate. Hero and Villain should have felt lucky to be blessed or have felt lucky to have received such a mutation. Hero did, at least for now. Villain, not so suddenly, wished he could have passed on from his first surgery, if only it meant he wouldn’t have to go through those ten thousand more.

Maybe ten thousand was an exaggeration- not to Villain, though.

“He’s harvesting us,” Villain explained, feeling more and more awake, but no less panicked than before- even as he took in the safety falling from Hero’s caring tongue. “He- he wants to be a super-human, or- or something. I don’t know. He would-”

Hero interrupted, “Hold on, hold on. Who is ‘he?’”

“Supervillain.” Villain’s hands were beginning to quake, buzzing like a prank ring. “The hospital is his. How…” He shook his head, sitting up on what he now realized was a plush, and regrettably white couch. Had he really been laying down all this time? And had he really been staring at his eyelids- the ceiling, the fan, anything but the rest of his surroundings? Was he so used to waking up from surgeries that his instinctual casting gazes had been rid of? “How did you know where I was?”

Piecing everything together was difficult for Hero. She wanted to admit to herself that she knew exactly what was going on, but she didn’t. Villain was in such a delirious and panicked state, that nothing came out with a logical consistency, nor a reasonable plot. It was just pure-blooded panic, frenzy, delirium, madness.

“The news. There was a reporter who had gone missing months ago,” Hero began to explain. “An investigation ensued, and all the while you had been gone- no crimes, no taunting phone calls or texts, nothing.” Was she over-explaining? Hero didn’t know. She was feeling as anxious as Villain was after the statement ‘He’s harvesting us.’”

“Anyway- um- I kept tabs on the investigation.” Hero walked the glass of water she’d brought in so long ago to Villain, who, gladly yet hesitantly, took the glass. “Turns out that one reporter had learned everything, but she was- she was killed. I saw your name in one of the files she created about the hospital. I didn’t know if you were still alive or not.”

Saying he was alive would have been a lie. Of course, Villain was adept at the craft of lying. He spun truths like silk until he had single strands, which he tied into others- like a web. Now, though…it was easier to admit he’d feel better being dead than to lie and say he was happy to be alive. It was such an odd feeling- the duality of gratefulness of being saved and the dread at being alive, available to Supervillain to steal for vital organs.

“Are you okay?”

Villain took a breath, then a sip of the water. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to answer that question,” he told Hero. “My mind is…” Villain shook his head again, allowed a shudder to take control of his body for a moment. His head twitched at the thought of his brain being picked at- literally. With- with scalpels and tweezers, and all the like.

A tear fell from Villain’s eye. Hero never wanted to be so near him as in this moment.

“We have to hide, Hero. We should have never been so naïve as to think our blessings weren’t actually our curse. He’ll hunt us.”

“What did he do?” Hero’s voice was timid, like she was afraid to ask such a question again. It wasn’t her intention to force the trauma into Villain’s active mind. She only wanted to be prepared. Wanted to know what happened so that she could predict what would happen, and furthermore so she could prevent the would-be’s of the future.

“Supervillain wants to achieve immortality. What better way to acquire such a trait than to steal the organs of people who heal perfectly and within days?”

[xbladekitkat85]

One of Us

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

This is for @spider-starry's 1800 follower celebration! I hope you enjoy reading this and happy 1800 Carrie!

A/N: Bold is flashback and italics are thoughts. The different color font are song lyrics

It had been a month since Y/n asked Peter for a break.

Y/n was sitting on the couch in her living room watching old reruns of the Muppet Show. She wasn’t completely focused on what was happening in the show. She hadn’t been able to focus on anything really since last month. All y/n felt was a hollow sort of emptiness in her chest. She knew what was missing from her life but it wasn’t as easy to ignore as she thought it would be.

What was Peter doing right now?

The familiar sound of Statler and Waldorf heckling Fozzie faded to white noise as her mind shifted to memories of the previous month. When she told Peter they needed to take a break.

Y/n’s phone had rung while she was waiting for Peter to show up for their weekly movie night. She glanced at the clock before glancing at the caller ID. The familiar picture of Peter making a goofy face shone brightly at her in the dark living room.

He’s late again. She thought as she answered the call from Peter.

“Hey y/n, I’m so sorry, I’m about to head up the elevator. I’ll see you in less than 5 minutes!”

“Ok,” She replied “Uh, can we talk about something when you get here?”

Y/n was pretty sure her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence.

“Of course, as long as it’s not something like you started Back to The Future without me.” He joked.

Y/n felt her stomach drop as she tried to find words to respond with.

“I’m right outside the door now, so uh, I think we can probably hang up the phone now.”

“Yup, I’ll be there in a second.” She said, relieved to have a short period of time to gather her thoughts.

They both hung up and Y/n walked to the door. She took a deep breath and opened it for Peter, who was holding a bouquet of peonies, hyacinths and hydrangeas.

“I know I’m late for the 8th time, but I bought you some flowers from the stand outside your building as an apology. I know it doesn’t make all these late arrivals ok, but I figured you might like these.” He said sincerely. “I remember you said you liked hydrangeas but I had to google it because I couldn’t remember exactly what they looked like.”

Y/n felt sick to her stomach.

He had remembered what her favorite flowers were and gave her a very sincere apology. She knew he truly meant his apology and that made everything worse.

She didn’t realize she was crying until Peter’s expression changed to one of worry and he quickly set the flowers down and gently guided her to sit down at the table.

“Hey, you ok, what’s wrong?” He asked. “You wanted to talk about something, right? I’m here, and I’m listening.”

Y/n tried to take a deep breath but it was more of a gasp for air.

“Shh, it’s ok, take your time.” Peter soothed her. “Just talk when you’re ready.”

And so I dealt you the blow, one of us had to go.

“Peter, I think we need a break.” She said shakily.

She was scared to look at Peter’s face. Afraid of the heartbroken expression he would look at her with.

“I know that you love me and of course I love you so goddamn much, but I know you also love being Spiderman and how important it is to you.”

He took her hand gently and she finally looked at Peter’s eyes.

His eyes were filled with tears unshed but also a clear sign of understanding.

“I know that I haven’t been the best at being on time and that I sometimes have you stitch up my stab wounds or whatever.”

“Peter, I don’t mind stitching you up, your safety is important.”

“But I understand that it’s not the easiest thing to do, hell most people would balk at the idea. And… It’s ok if you want to take a break.”

His voice cracked a bit at the end.

“I will respect your wishes and I want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you if you do want to start over.”

Peter hugged y/n and softly kissed her cheek before grabbing his jacket and leaving the apartment, a thick tension in the air lingering after he was gone.

Peter had walked back to his apartment, the streets almost devoid of people. He didn’t completely acknowledge May asking what had happened and just mumbled that he was tired. He decided to take a shower and go to bed after. He sat at his desk for a moment before he finally let his tears fall freely.

Y/n took a few deep breaths and brushed her teeth before plugging her phone in to charge and laying down. She gazed at the glow in the dark stars on her ceiling, feeling like she had made the wrong decision, despite wanting this outcome in the first place. She already missed Peter and his warm, comforting hugs and wished that she could cuddle with him on his couch and watch movies. She wished she didn’t push him away and that he was still here with her.

Now it’s different, I want you to know.

One of us is crying, one of us is lying in her lonely bed.

Staring at the ceiling, wishing she were somewhere else instead.

Peter was wondering if y/n was ever going to say she wanted to try again. He had waited a week for her to call him. She hadn’t.

He didn’t worry about it too much. He knew that emotions are complicated and confusing. It was normal to take time to think about and process what you may be feeling. But after 3 weeks of waiting for something from y/n, and nothing happening, he started losing hope.

Maybe she didn’t want to stay in a relationship. Maybe she thought being friends was better for them. He felt like an idiot for being late for their movie nights so often. She only really asked that he show up consistently for those days and she could work around everything else that may happen with Spider duties. He felt like he could have done better. No, he should have done better.

He should have asked her twice if she was sure. He should have stayed to make sure she was going to be ok. He shouldn’t have left so soon after both of them felt such strong emotion.

One of us is lonely, one of us is only waiting for a call.

Sorry for himself, feeling stupid, feeling small.

Wishing he had never left at all.

Y/n felt conflicted. She had wanted to call Peter so many times over the past weeks but she kept on chickening out. She realized that she was an absolute idiot for asking Peter for a break. She had the most handsome, kindhearted, intelligent, yet kinda dorky guy in the world as her boyfriend and she had lost that. Y/n knew that there weren't many Peter Parkers in the world. She knew that she wanted to try again.

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small.

Wishing she had never left at all.

Never left at all.

Y/n picked up her phone with determination. She called Peter and waited for him to answer. She hoped he would still pick up the phone for her.

“Hello?” A familiar voice asked hopefully.

She smiled fondly at his voice.

“Hi Peter.”

[aworldinsideaperson]

A Well Kept Secret - George Weasley (Part One)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Food mentions, talking about food, one night stand (no smut) having a child, getting pregnant, being pregnant,

Summary: A one night stand with George produces a child and a secret.

Trope Series: Secret baby.

A/N: This one is going to be in two parts (possibly three we will have to see) but I just started writing this last night and couldn’t stop so here it is. 

@izzytheninja​ @youto-believein​

It was a chilly evening in the Fall of 1997 when it all started, two lifelong friends meet in a London pub for a drink or two to take the edge off of their worries and fears as war wages around them. A red haired man sat beside a girl He’d known for the last nine years, they were nearly three drinks deep as their fingers brushed. With a soft intake of breath they looked to each other, her eyes wide as she stared up at him; his eyes had trained on hers as his tongue slid over his lips then dropped to her parted lips. That’s when he knew it was over and his life would never be the same. Little did he know how one night of pure bliss with his schoolyard crush would change both their lives in the ways that it did.

It was only one night. It was only supposed to be one night no matter the feeling that had arisen as they kissed on her bed that night and whispered “I love you” in the dark. The world was far too dangerous to start anything more than that one night and so they kept it at that though it was hardly a surprise to anyone when their glances to each other were lingering or their goodbyes just a touch too long. It was eight weeks before Y/N realized something was off.

The missed period. That’s what did it for her. The most obvious of symptoms but now as she looked down at the stick waiting for an answer things fell into place. She was sick to her stomach so often her diet consisted mostly of crackers the last week, she was exhausted though she had chalked it up to the stress of the current situations the suddenness of it started to make sense. Her mind ran through a checklist of symptoms her mother had claimed during her second pregnancy and with each check mark left her mind became more certain and as the timer went off and her eyes focused on the results she wasn’t as shocked as she should have been.

She was having George Weasley’s baby.

With a hand pressed to her stomach her mind raced. The Weasley family were targets, and England wasn’t safe. So with a single letter owled to her parents Y/N was packing her bags and was off to the states.

She settled into a small town in Missouri. Hermann, population now 2,401 with one on the way. With her life’s savings she paid cash from a tiny shack of a house in the center of town and tried to live her muggle life. At only 19 she was receiving dirty and pitying looks alike as he stomach started to grow beneath her waitress uniform.

At 29 weeks pregnant she received the news, a letter from her parents proclaiming the fall of Voldemort and the end of the war, they begged her to come home. As she looked down at her swollen stomach she hesitated and wrote them a single word response. No.

She had planned to return to London, her home for her whole life, but fear continued to stop her. Voldemort was gone, the Weasley family had lived, George had lived, her family was safe, but the thought of showing up so many months later after no words to George frightened her beyond any unforgivable curse. And so she did it alone. She gave birth to their son alone. She held a first birthday alone, and then a second, and a third all alone. Each year as his birthday drew to a close Y/N wondered if she should write to George, if she should tell him of their son, tell him about his big brown eyes and thick red hair; to tell him of all the mischief their three year old caused. And every year she remembered that it was meant to only be one night. The night had been filled with passion and confessions of love but she not only had to worry about rejection for herself but for the small boy that crawled into her bed when the wind was too loud and begged for just one more bedtime story before she turned out the light. He thought his father was gone, that he had loved him and wanted him but that now he was gone. She couldn’t put her son in a position to be rejected. Not by his own father.

And so she stayed. She stayed away from England, away from her family, away from George. Until an owl arrived on her doorstep 2 weeks after Graysen’s third birthday, an envelope at its feet. With a sigh she took the envelope inside and tore into it, inside was an invitation to her sister’s wedding. It read...

Please join us for the wedding of Alexa & Dawson

The First of September, 2001 at six o’clock in the evening

Dawson’s Family Home

Painswick England

Reception to Follow

Also inside the envelope was a letter, a plea from Alexa to come home, to “Bring Graysen and come home. Just a few weeks. Be my maid of honor and let me meet my nephew.” And so, filled with guilt, Y/N booked the plane tickets and a week later the two of them flew to London.

**********

Leaving the safety of the home she had built made Y/N’s blood run cold, on edge every time she left her parents house, every flash of red hair was a Weasley in her mind and every time it wasn’t she’d breathe a sigh of relief. Until the day the air caught in her lungs as a tall red haired man spotted her across the street. Identical to the one that played in her mind all the time.

He raced across the street and threw his arms around her, barely taking notice of the small red haired boy holding tightly to her hand. “Y/N!” He exclaimed. “How long has it been?”

Y/N used her free hand to pat him on the back. “Almost four years, it’s good to see you Freddie.” She pulled away, her eyes darting to her son, standing at her feet looking up at the man with curiosity. It was then that Fred looked down too and in that moment he realized her long kept secret and she knew it.

“And who’s this?” His voice tentative as he looked between her and the boy.

“This is Graysen.” She smiled and crouched down beside him, the two of them now looking up at Fred. “Graysen, this is one of Mummy’s friends from school, can you say hello to Fred?”

With a glint in his eyes a grin spread across his face. “Hello Fred!”

Fred now too crouched down to a closer height. “Well hello to you too Graysen,” Fred held out his hand and Graysen grabbed it. “How old are you?”

Graysen smiled and jumped up and down. “I just turned three in July!”

Fred faked a shocked face. “Three in July? You’re awfully big for three.”

“Mommy said I got it from my Daddy.”

Fred mumbled under his breath. “I bet you did.”

Y/N gave him a smile and picked Graysen up. “Well we best get going, I have to pick up my dress for Alexa’s wedding, it’s in two weeks.”

Fred nodded. “Right, well I’ll let you get back to your errands, but only if you agree to come to dinner at the Burrow tonight. You spent so much time at our house during breaks Mum will be thrilled to see you.”

“Oh Fred I don’t know I wouldn’t want to impose.” She said, shaking her head vigorously.

“You wouldn’t be, you’re invited. Please come, bring Graysen and your partner.” He insisted, looking to the little boy.

Her voice became small, “Actually it’s just Gray and I.”

“All the more reason to come then.” He was certainly persistent on the matter.

Y/N smiled softly at him, “You’re not going to accept no are you?”

He shook his head, “Not this time.”

“I’ll be there, six as usual?”

“Mum does like to keep a tight meal schedule these days.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Perfect.” With that the two parted ways and Y/N regretted coming home.

**********

Fred strolled into the shop, two paper bags in hand, each filled with food from their favorite muggle dinner in London. Walking up to his brother and setting the food on the counter Fred narrowed his eyes at his brother. “George?” He began, “You remember like 4 years ago, there was a night you didn’t come home?”

George turned from his brother as the corners of his lips turned up at the memory.“Yeah, why?”

“Where were you?”

George rolled his eyes and sighed. “I told you before, I’m not telling you, I was safe that’s what matters.”

Fred rolled his eyes too and mumbled under his breath. “I don’t know if you were as safe as you could have been.”

George turned to him in confusion “What do you mean?”

Fred shook his head. “Nothing, just make sure you’re ready to go by six, you know mum doesn’t like us being late.”

**********

At half past five Y/N sat in front of her parents' empty fireplace, Graysen playing on the floor in front of her as a million thoughts raced through her mind, how could she have said yes? How could she have agreed to dinner with the family of her son, a boy they didn’t know existed, that they didn’t know was theirs. She had considered leaving him with her parents but Fred has specifically invited the two of them and so as the clock struck quarter to six she wrapped Graysen up in her arms and the two of them apparated to the Burrow. Placing Graysen on the ground and holding tightly to his hand Y/N knocked on the front door three times.

When the door swung open Molly Weasley stood on the other side, face bright and smiling and she pulled Y/N in for a hug and ushered her into the home.

It was as bright and warm as it had always been, filled with noise and people.

“Who’s this?” Molly asked smiling down at Graysen looking around the magical house in wonder.

“This is Graysen, my son.”

Molly looked at her with wide eyes, “Your son?”

“Yes, he’s why I left the county.”

Molly gave her a smile and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing dear, it wasn’t safe.”

“I know, but I should have come back sooner.” Her voice was soft and filled with sadness.

“What’s done is done, now come, we’re all sitting down to dinner.”

Walking into the kitchen felt so normal, she’d taken so many meals here in her youth it felt so natural to take the seat she’d always held, right beside George, though his seat seemed to be empty.

The table filled, Aruther and Molly at the heads, Ginny and Harry, Hermione and Ron, Bill, Fleur, even Percy and his wife had joined the fray tonight but the twin’s seats still remained empty at six oh one when there was a loud crack and the two cackling gingers appeared.

“Sorry we’re late mum, one last customer and all that, you know how it is.” Fred smiled as their laughter died down and they looked to the table.

When their eyes locked the room went silent. Y/N and George just stared at each other, until Graysen pulled on her arm for her attention. That’s when George looked to the small boy beside her and his heart soared then sank. Silently he went to his seat, the one beside Y/N, just as it has always been back when they were younger. Though this time they stayed nearly silent as they filled their plates and ate, Y/N keeping a close eye on the boy next to her as he fed himself small spoonfuls of the concoction he’d made of his plate.

“So Y/N,” Fred spoke. “You introduce Georgie to your son?”

Y/N swallowed and shook her head. “George? This is my son Graysen.”

George leaned around her to get a good look at the boy, the red hair and the big brown eyes, there was no doubt that he was a Weasley. “Hello Graysen, it’s nice to meet you. I’m George.”

With a full spoon still in his mouth Graysen attempted a smile and waved his little hand in George’s direction. The normal conversation resumed and George turned to her and asked. “How old is he?”

“He just turned three.” She stated, her eyes trained closely on her plate.

“He seems like a sweet boy.”

“He is, he’s adorable and an absolute terror at times. His tantrums have been known to shake walls.”

Arthur chuckled, jumping into the conversation. “You know, the twins were like that too when they were young, thought they were going to bring the whole house down once or twice.”

Y/N smiled and stayed silent, the rest of dinner focused entirely on the food in front of her and keeping Gray’s mess contained to his plate. Dinner was cleared and everyone ushered themselves into the living room, Graysen and Victoire sat in the middle of the floor playing, everyone else sat around them on couches and chairs. It was all polite conversation until Fred turned to her with a mischievous smile, the same one his twin got, the same one that Graysen got, the one that indicated a terrible, terrible, idea.

“So Y/N,” Fred began, “Who’s Graysen’s dad?”

Y/N tried to smile but the panic was clear on her face. “Wow, right to the hard hitters.”

“Shouldn’t be a hard question.” His tone flat, no hint of laughter in his voice. And so the interrogation began.

“You don’t know him.”

“Is he a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Come from a big family?”

“No just him and his one sibling.”

“A twin?”

“No.”

“Parents names?”

“Mark and Anna.”

“What happened to him?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Did he go to hogwarts with us?”

“Yes.”

“Gryffindor?”

“Yes.”

Fred paused his rapid fire and his eyebrows rose. “Really?”

That was when it dawned on her, she’d slipped. There were only four Gryffindor boys their year. Fred knew it wasn’t him, and there was only one other redhead. “Fuck.” Y/N stood up quickly, picking Graysen up in her arms as she walked swiftly toward the door. “I’ve gotta go.”

George stood up after her following the two of them to the door. “Y/N wait!” He shouted but without a second thought a crack filled the air and she was gone.

George stormed back into the room, his eyes full of rage. “I can’t believe you!” He yelled his anger directed at his twin as the rest shuffled from the room.

Fred huffed. “Why are you angry with me? I was just asking questions about his father.” A sly smirk on his face as he leaned back in his chair.

“Because you know it’s me and you pushed her anyway!” George grew more angry by the minute.

“I did that for you! Do you really think she was going to tell you when she’s kept it from you this long already? No!” Fred now stood, face to face with his twin.

George choked on his words, clenching and releasing his fists as he tried not to attack the man before him. After a moment, his breathing calmed and his voice steadied. “That’s not a decision you get to make for her or for me. Now I have to go fix this and I’ll be lucky if she lets me in.” And with that George turned and walked out the door.